


Five Years

by Sylph_of_Breath



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depictions of major depression, Divorce, Gender Issues, Multi, Other, Pre-transition June Egbert, Pre-transition Roxy Lalonde, Roxygen, Sadstuck, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27432037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylph_of_Breath/pseuds/Sylph_of_Breath
Summary: The story of a relationship from end to beginning, and beginning to end.
Relationships: June Egbert/Roxy Lalonde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the musical "The Last Five Years" by Jason Robert Brown. I highly recommend listening to the soundtrack!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bring back the lies, hang them back on the wall_   
>  _Maybe I’d see how you could be_   
>  _So certain that we had no chance_   
>  _at all_

It’s been 24 days. You know this because you’ve been counting the sunsets and sunrises through the gap in the blinds on your bedroom window. Not because you’ve had things to do to fill your days, like a person who is not utterly and completely _broken_. You remember the very short time when you were, maybe, almost that person. But mostly there was just a longer time after that when you tried so, so hard to pretend that you were, tried for _them._

_And look where it got you._

That feels like a different lifetime now, but it’s only been 24 days.

You hear the faint sound of your front door opening. It’s Dave. He’s been coming every day to clean up after you, and honestly, probably to make sure you’re not dead. For the first week he tried to do more than that, but you made it pretty clear that you were not going to engage, so he let it go.

You hear the now routine sounds from downstairs, the fridge door opening, the cabinets, the kitchen faucet, and then footsteps up the stairs, the creak of the loose floorboard in the hall, and finally, the soft courtesy knock on your already ajar bedroom door, before he pokes his head in without prompting. This is routine for him now, too.

“June?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here…”

“OK. Do you need anything?”

“No thanks.”

“OK, text me if you do. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…”

You hear the creak of the floor board signaling that he’s turning to go, but then it creaks again as he stops and turns back.

“Uh, June? You should probably check the mail today...if you’re up to it. I left it on the counter for you. OK, later.”

Then once again comes the floorboard, the stairs, the closing and locking of the front door.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but when you wake up it’s still mostly light out. You only know it’s the same day because you’ve never slept through a Dave visit, and he’s never missed one. You decide that since Dave has already come and gone, it’s safe to make your daily sojourn to the bathroom and kitchen to complete your obligatory life-sustaining activities for the day. You decide it’s been a little too long since your last shower, so you summon up all of your energy and force yourself to take one. The bathrobe hanging on the back of the door is not exactly _clean_ , but it’s cleaner than what you were wearing, and it’s here, so you put that on, abandoning the dirty pajamas where they lay, and head downstairs.

You have plenty of bowls and spoons in the cabinet, but you grab the ones from the drying rack, the same ones you used yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, and yet are always clean and there waiting for you in the drying rack when you need them. You open the cabinet and stare blankly at the two boxes inside- coco and fruity- for several minutes, before grabbing the fruity for no particular reason at all. You fill your bowl with cereal, leaving the box open on the counter, and then milk, which you only put back in the fridge because, well, that can’t wait for Dave to do it.

You start to head out to the couch where you take all of your “meals” these days, when the pile of mail on the counter catches your eye. You remember what Dave said, and though your complete lack of motivation almost outweighs your curiosity, you decide to set the bowl down and start shuffling through the stack.

_Ad, coupons, ad, ad, bill, sweepstakes...what’s this?_

You uncover enough to see the corner of a large manila envelope sticking out from the bottom of the pile. You grab it and brush the rest of the junk aside.

There’s no address or postage, just a message on the front delicately hand-written in pink marker-

_June,_

_Whenever you’re ready._

_-R_

A single sharp, frightening laugh escapes you first, soon followed by a white hot rage that bubbles outward from your gut as you trace the flowery pink letters again and again with your eyes.

_Whenever you’re ready._  
_Whenever you’re ready._  
_Whenever you’re ready._

“Oh, OK, Roxy, OK, _whenever I’m ready,_ _now_ it’s whenever _I’m_ ready, _now_ you care about what _I_ want, what _I_ can do and _when_ I can fucking do it! _Now_ you fucking care about that!” You find yourself shouting at no one at all.

“Well how about this, Roxy, how about if I’m _never fucking ready,_ _huh? How about that? Then what? Will you still care forever? Will you still wait?”_

Your throat is already raw, having atrophied over the course of the month. The angry tears start flowing out quickly and steadily, blinding you literally and figuratively, but the fire inside is still growing stronger and hotter and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Well get used to fucking waiting, Roxy, because I’ve got absolutely _nothing but time!_ And I am _Not. Fucking. Ready!”_

You are screaming now as you take the envelope in both hands and tear it to shreds. The pieces get smaller and smaller and smaller but you keep tearing and you keep screaming.

_“I’m not fucking ready! I’m not fucking ready! I’m not fucking ready! I’m not…”_

When the last confetti-sized scrap falls to the floor, you follow it down. Your screams become sobs as you lay there in your pile, on the cold hard kitchen floor, alone.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ve been waiting for someone_   
>  _I’ve been praying for someone_   
>  _I think that I could be in love with someone like you_

Rose takes a pointed sip of her tea without breaking eye contact, then sets down her cup and asks-

“So, are you going to bring up the real reason you’re here in my home drinking my tea, or shall I?”

You take a sip from your own cup and blink in Rose’s direction to imply that you have no idea what she’s talking about. You’re pretty sure you know what she’s talking about, though you’re not sure how _she_ knows about the thing you think she’s talking about that you’ve been planning to bring up but have not yet found the courage...

“Your date with John?”

_Yep, that’s the thing._

“Oh God, oh geez, he _told_ you?”

“No Roxy, he didn’t _tell_ me, he _asked_ me…”

You tug your shirt halfway up your face, mostly for show, but also to hide the huge goofy grin that you can’t control.

“*GASP*! OMG _what?_ Are you _serious!?”_

“It was...weird…”

“OMG Rose I’m so sorry OMG OMG…”

You are absolutely loving this right now.

“What exactly did he say?”

“He just pestered me last week and started rambling on about mothers and daughters, and how he knew how important I am to you and you to me, and how much he valued my friendship, and that he didn’t want to quote ‘make things weird,’ then I finally insisted he get to the point and he asked if it would be quote ‘OK with me’ if he asked you out on a date…”

“ _Awwww John OMG_ what an adorable little gentleman!”

“Well I’m glad you think so- I just told him that you are an adult who can make their own decisions and to please never mention this conversation again...”

She takes another deliberate sip of tea, egging you on to pick it up from here.

“So…”

“So?”

“So...what do you think?”

“Well Roxy, I was sort of holding out hope that you’d end up with a nice Jewish boy…”

“ _Rose!_ Seriously?”

“No, Roxy... I’m engaged to an alien.”

She takes another sip.

“But what does it matter what I think? As I said, you are a fully capable adult, as is John, and I love you both dearly and want you to be happy, so that’s what I think.”

You were sort of hoping for a little more than that. You would have accepted resistance or encouragement, just at least with a bit more enthusiasm for you to work off of. You wonder why you would expect to get that from Rose, but she must sense your disappointment, (or maybe she was just fucking with you,) and finally throws you the bone you’ve been waiting for.

“So, are you going to tell me how it went?”

And that’s all it takes to bring back your big stupid grin, so wide that it feels like your face is trying to rip itself open.

“It...it was, oh geez...Rose, it was _perfect. UGH! God,_ it was so fucking _amazing!_ ”

You throw your face into your hands and just sort of half giggle half squeal into them for a few seconds. Rose graciously waits while you do this.

“Like, _I dee even kay_ how else to describe it, Rose. He was just so fucking _sweet_ and like, did all the stuff where he opened doors and pulled out my chair for me, and it was _absolutely precious!_ ”

“Hmmm…”

“And like, he was obviously super nervous at first, which was just so fucking cute, but then we just started talking and he calmed down and like, the way he was looking at me when I was telling him about my stupid idea for my book, like he was really, _really_ listening and like cared so fucking much, and like I was the most interesting fucking thing in the world, just…”

It all becomes too much again and your face goes back into your hands for another quick giggle-squeal. Once again, Rose waits.

“OK, and then he was telling me about how he used to be real into computers when he was a kid and like, coding and shit, and I was like ‘ _Oh em gee, me too!_ ’ and then he started talking about how he was thinking about trying to get back into it and maybe, like, make a game, like based on Sburb but you know, without the all the real-life apocalypse stuff, and like, _God_ , the way his eyes just like, idk, _sparkled_ , when he was talking about it, and tbh I don’t even really remember most of what he said I was too distracted by his _adorable fucking face_ to even listen!”

“Interesting…”

“And then idk how this even happened but we must have just kept talking for a long time cause suddenly the restaurant was empty and the poor waiter came over and was like, ‘ _Pardon me sir, madam, you gotta fucking leave now please_ ’ but like, nicer obvs, so we left, but then he was like ‘ _Hey, let’s just leave the car here and walk!_ ’ So we walked all the way to the park and then all around the lake a bunch of times and then out the other side of the park and just kept _talking_ about like, literally everything, the game, and before the game, and everything that happened since, and like, it wasn’t even scary or hard or embarrassing or anything, it was just... _perfect_.”

“That sounds lovely, Roxy.”

“Yeah but that’s _not even the best part!_ So we left the park and were still just walking and walking and talking and and then all of the sudden he looked up and was like ‘ _oh shit it’s getting light_ ’ and then I was like ‘ _oh shit, yeah you’re right_ ’ and he was all ‘ _the car’s super far away let me call you a cab_ ’ and then I was like- OK, listen cause this was smooth as fuck, I was like, ‘ _ok but I think we’re real close to your house now so let me walk you home first,_ ’ and we weren’t even that super close to his house but he _fucking did!_ ”

“Well played.”

“ _I know!_ So we walked all the way to his house and we weren’t talking as much anymore but like, not in a bad way _at all_ , it was like, totally comfy and nice, and then finally we got to his house and then just kinda stood there at the end of the driveway for a while cause like, even though part of me really wanted to go home and sleep cause of all the walking and cause it was like, 6 in the morning, most of me did not want to let this boy _out of my sight,_ you know? And like, not to brag, but I’m p sure he was thinking the same thing cause then he got all nervous again and was like, not going inside, and kept trying to think of something else to talk about. But then, idk if it was cause I was so fucking tired or cause he was just standing there all sleepy-eyed and dopey and cute as all fuck, but I just, like... _snapped_ , and I just grabbed him by his perfect fucking face and _I kissed him right on his big stupid adorable mouth!_

“Wow…”

“ _I KNOW RIGHT!?_ Like, I know I probably should have asked first, but then he just put his hands on my waist, like, _omg swoon_ , and started kissing back and, Rose, it was, and I don’t use this word lightly, especially to you, but it was. Fucking. _Magical._ ”

“Sounds like it…”

“Like, for realsies, _magical._ ”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m like, downright goddamn _smitten,_ Rose. Like, I can’t _even_ with this adorable fucking boy!”

“Roxy, I am very happy for you, really I am. I do have one follow up question though.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you at any point mention to him what you and I have been discussing lately?”

And just like that, you go from feeling like you are floating on a cloud to right back down on Earth C. For someone who supposedly loves wizards, Rose sure does know how to ruin a magical moment with a practicality…

“You mean...the gender stuff?”

“I do.”

“I...uh, no. No, I didn’t say anything about the gender stuff.”

“Hmmm…”

“I almost did a few times, but whenever I tried to sort of drop some tiny little hints he kinda seemed like, a little uncomfortable? Idk, it was super subtle and honestly, I was probably so nervous about it that I was just imagining it, but everything else was so wonderful I didn’t want to mess it up by pushing it, so…no, I didn’t tell him.”

Rose takes another stern motherly sip of tea- not angry, just disappointed.

“Well, Roxy, forgive my crass assumptions, but it sounds like perhaps you’d like to see John again...”

“Well yeah, did you listen to literally anything I just said?”

“...and it sounds like perhaps you’d like to continue seeing him for a not insignificant period of time...”

“Yeah, I mean, I hope so…”

“...so, do you then agree, that perhaps it might be important that John is aware of the status of your gender identity? Maybe before certain words start getting tossed around that may not be as appropriate as one may assume?”

Rose is completely right, as usual, you know that, but instead of immediately telling her so you just hang your head in shame.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Roxy...”

“No, Rose, you’re completely right, as usual. I just…”

“You just what?”

You almost want to cry, but you restrain yourself.

“What if it’s… a dealbreaker? You know? Like, what if John is _only_ into girls?”

Rose surprises you by setting her cup down again and putting her hand on yours in an act of uncharacteristic warmth.

“Roxy, I have known John for most of my life, and I cannot promise you that it will be an easy conversation, but I truly believe that if you are honest with him, and open, and patient, he will pleasantly surprise you. He’s obviously quite, what was the word you used? _Smitten?_ With you as well, Roxy, as he well should be. I can’t imagine he’d be willing to let a silly little thing like _gender_ get in the way of that.”

“Haha, yeah, it’s silly…”

As is your way, you try very hard not to show how much the words hurt, but Rose catches her mistake anyway.

“I didn’t mean that, Roxy, I’m sorry. It’s not a little thing, it’s important, I know it is…”

“It’s OK, Rose, I know what you meant.” And you do. “And...you’re right. You’re right. I have to tell him. I’ll tell him! I’ll tell him today, and if he wants nothing to do with me, then at least I guess I can get to work on getting over him sooner rather than later!”

You whip out your phone before you get the chance to lose your nerve.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

TT: heyyyyyy john!  
TT: thnx again 4 last nite, i had so much fun! ;)  
TT: anyway, do u wanna maybe come over later?  
TT: 2 talk?


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I swear to God, I’ll never understand_   
>  _How you can stand there, straight and tall_   
>  _And see I’m crying, and not do anything at all_

“OK, uh, here we are,” you say as you slide in the key card and push open the door to your hotel room. You hold it open for Roxy as you anxiously watch them step past you into the room.

“I know it’s not much, but you know, it’s got cable, and it’s free, and, uh, the bed’s pretty comfortable!”

Roxy is already sitting on the foot of the bed by the time you close the door and come inside. The sight of them seated there makes you nervous, but it’s a good kind of nervous, so you smile and ask, “Mind if I join you?” Roxy smiles back weakly and tells you to go ahead, so you carefully choose your spot a safe few inches beside them. You are petrified, but you press on.

“I was thinking, maybe after the show we could just come back here and watch a movie or something, maybe order some room service... I saw they have tiramisu! Hell, if you want we could just have a whole bunch of tiramisu for dinner, haha!”

Roxy doesn’t say anything. You continue on anyway.

“And...I was thinking, after dinner, maybe we could...uh…you know...I mean, no pressure, obviously, it’s just, you know, it’s been a while, and we’ve got this room, and I thought it might be kinda, um... _romantic_ …?”

They still don’t say anything, but you notice a subtle tensing of their muscles.

“Sorry, no, nevermind, it’s fine. Forget I said anything. We don’t have to do anything. We can just go right to sleep if you want. Or we can go out! Just...whatever you want to do is what I want to do! I’m just…”

You look up at Roxy’s face, and for the first time they turn to look back at you.

“I’m just so happy you’re here.”

A chuckle bursts out of you that’s half nerves and half genuine happiness, and you instinctively turn away again, but you can feel your anxiety subside a bit.

“Look, I know this kinda thing isn’t really your thing, and yeah, I don’t blame you, it’s pretty stupid, but I don’t know, sometimes they can be kinda fun! They do this pretty cool thing at the end of the night where some of the cosplayers put on these skits like, reenacting some of our battles from the game, and like, yeah it’s super cheesy and _wildly_ inaccurate, but some of the costumes and the make-up are pretty intricate, and the kids seem to have a lot of fun with it so, I dunno, it’s kinda cool…”

Roxy doesn’t look like they think it’s cool. They just look like they’re in pain.

“I mean, it’s stupid, sorry, we don’t have to go.”

The awkwardness intensifies again as you and your spouse sit a few inches away from each other in silence, on the foot of a shitty hotel bed, in the middle of nowhere. You wrack your brain to decide what to try next, but then it dawns on you that maybe the problem is that you keep _trying_ things. Roxy is too smart for that. Roxy is too _good_ for that. So you decide to throw all caution to the wind and just say what you’re feeling, cause, well, it’s not like you really have anything to lose at this point...

“Roxy, I really mean it when I say I’m so glad you’re here. Like, more than glad, I’m over the fucking moon about it, honestly! The fact that you came to see me and support me doing what I do, as idiotic as it is, and... especially with how things have been with us lately, you still took the time and the effort to come all the way out here for _me!_ God, it just... it means so much more than I can even say…”

You look over again and see that tears are forming in their eyes, so you go with it and stop trying to hold back your own.

“And...it gives me hope.”

They sniff.

“And, look, I know it’s not that simple, I know. We’re gonna have a lot of work to do, and it’s gonna be _hard_ , and it’s gonna take a long time, and we’re gonna need to make some sacrifices, but, Roxy, I’m willing to do it, I _want_ to do it! Whatever it takes to fix this, to fix _us_ , anything is worth it to me because, well, because I’m _nothing_ without you!”

You put on your warmest smile, but Roxy is still just looking down, still crying, still not saying anything.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

That’s when Roxy tells you they can’t stay.

“Oh, um, OK, that’s OK. I guess we can maybe grab a quick bite before the panel, if you’re hungry, and then I can just duck out right after and drive you to the airport…

No, they tell you, they can’t stay, _at all._ They need to catch a flight back in an hour. They have a work thing.

“What?”

They tell you it was super last minute but it’s important. They tell you they’re sorry.

“I just...I don’t get it, Roxy, like, you’re already here, you really can’t miss one party just this once?”

They shake their head and tell you they’re sorry.

You sit for a moment in stunned silence, but then your disbelief starts to fade to anger.

“I mean, why did you even come at all if you can’t even stay for the panel? Like, what other reason would you have to come all the way out to the middle of fucking nowhere if you’re not even staying for the thing that is the whole reason _I’m_ even here at all? What, could you not wait another day and a half until I’m home to completely ignore me while I desperately try to save our fucking marriage?”

Roxy chokes out that they promised they would come.

“Don’t do that. Don’t spin this like _I’m_ the asshole who just didn’t read the fine print- you promised to come _for the convention,_ Roxy. You promised to come for my _panel_ , to see me _speak_ , to make me feel like maybe _my_ shitty career was something more than a point of embarrassment for once, hell, maybe even something to actually be proud of! _Fuck_ , Roxy, I _told_ people you were coming! I’ve made friends at these things- fine, fucking _acquaintances_ , whatever, it doesn’t matter- the point is there are people here who are a part of my life and they were looking forward to meeting you! Like, this whole thing isn’t humiliating enough for me without having to go backstage right before the show and tell everyone, ‘ _hey, sorry guys, Roxy sure did want to meet you all, but as it turns out, they actually can’t stomach spending more than 20 minute in my presence so they had to go…_ ”

You can hear Roxy crying next to you, but it just fuels your anger. You can feel your heartbeat getting faster and your breaths getting shorter. You are losing control, but you don’t care.

“I mean, _Jesus_ , Roxy, do you think I _want_ to keep doing these stupid fucking cons? Do you really think this is what I wanted for my life? Do you think I _enjoy_ this? You think I don’t know what a complete ass I make of myself everytime I get up on one of those stages in my fucking _Heir of Breath_ pajamas, you know, the ones made for a _13 year old boy_ , and answer the same _goddamn_ questions over and over again about all of the worst things that ever happened to me? And then just have to smile and wave and pose for pictures with a bunch of smelly teenagers in Dirk costumes? You think I’m not _extremely_ aware of the fact that out of the eight of us, _I’m_ the only one willing to _debase_ myself like this in front of these _absolute losers, over and over again,_ because _I’m_ the only one who doesn’t have _one fucking thing else going for me at all?_ But do you know why I keep fucking doing it Roxy? Do you want to know why I subject myself to this? I do it for _you!_ ”

The word ‘ _you_ ’ comes out of your mouth full of more contempt that you even realized you had in you, even in your current state. Roxy lets out a soft sob, but you still just can’t seem to care. _Let them cry over me, for once._

“I do it so that I have something, _anything_ , else to do with my time besides sit at home and wait for you, and pine over you, and cling to every fucking word out of your mouth and worship the very ground you walk on, but you know what, Roxy? If it were up to me, that is _exactly_ what I do, every second of every _goddamn_ day, and I would be genuinely fucking ecstatic about it! But I don’t. I tried that, and you hated it. I don’t because I see the way you look at me now, don’t think I don’t see it Roxy! I can feel myself annoying you, stifling you, how every second I force you to spend with me is just a second away from doing something _else_ , from being with _someone_ else, and it fucking _kills_ me Roxy! It breaks my fucking heart! But if getting out of your way, pretending you’re not the only fucking thing that has ever mattered to me, if that’s what it takes to make you happy, I will do it. I will do it because I love you _so goddamn much_ that I will _gladly_ live the rest of my life with a broken heart if it means that once every few weeks you might look at me with anything other than disgust.”

You and Roxy are both now sobbing heavily. For a moment, that's all you do. You are waiting for them to say something, anything, but they just sit there and cry. They don't even look up.

“I just... I don’t understand what I can do to make you love me again. What can I do, Roxy? Please, _please_ , just tell me what I can do, and I will do it! I will do it or I will die trying! I swear to fucking God I will!”

Roxy just continues to sob next to you, but you have nothing left to say. You slowly start to come down and finally, really see them. It’s _Roxy_ , and they are crying, and it’s entirely your fault.

_Jesus, Egbert, why are you such a fucking asshole?_

“Roxy, fuck, Roxy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” You let your hand hover for a few seconds before working up the courage to place it on their back, but it’s too late. One touch is all it takes to finally send Roxy storming towards the door.

“Roxy! No, Roxy, wait, please…”

They pause for just a brief moment, but then they open the door and leave.

“ _...don’t go._ ”


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My heart’s been stolen_   
>  _My ego’s swollen_   
>  _I just keep rollin’ on!_

“I mean, just, wow! Thank you, thank you so much... Yeah absolutely, I can get that to you next week...uh huh...yeah, definitely...yes! I’m excited too! Thank you so much again! OK, bye!”

You hang up your phone and then just stand there, holding it, staring at the wall in disbelief, trying to make sense of the conversation you just had.

“What was that about, Roxy?”

You turn around to answer Callie, but find that you still need a few seconds to actually form the words.

“Is everything all right?”

“That was...the publisher...the one I met with last week...she...she read my first few chapters, and she says she loved them...and she wants to buy the book…”

“Roxy, are you saying…”

“My book got _picked up,_ Callie. Like, it’s gonna be a _book_. Like, a _book_ book. Like, for realsies. I’m not even close to being done, but she loved what I had so much that she just offered me a deal. And…it's a _really good_ deal...”

You still have not reached the point of celebration in your mind, but Callie drops the box they’re holding and pulls you the rest of the way out of your stupor with one of their famous hugs.

“ _Oh!_ Roxy, that’s wonderful news! I knew you could do it, dear! Congratulations! I’m so very proud of you! Goodness, what a big day for you today is shaping up to be, _uwu!_ ”

You relax and hug back.

“Thanks, Callie, I couldn’t have done it without you! Seriously, you’re the best friend and best roomie and just best everything anyone could ever ask for, you've been so supportive and helpful and patient with all this, and everything, and...Oh Callie! _I’m gonna miss you so much!_ ”

You squeeze Callie tighter, as if that’s going to make some sort of difference- as if you might not need to choose after all, as if you hadn't already. Callie just lightheartedly chuckles and pats your back.

“Oh! It’s all right, Roxy, surely we’ll still see each other all the time! Why, you’re not going very far at all!”

“I know, but it’s not _the same!_ ”

“Well, yes, I suppose it’s not, not quite, but Roxy, you and John are going to be so happy together, I know you will! And I’ll be just fine here! I may even turn your room into a big closet for all of my cosplay supplies! _Uwu!_ ”

You want to laugh at their joke that might very well not actually be a joke at all, but the image of your room suddenly not being your room anymore makes your stomach churn. Not that you’ve even slept there all that much the past few months, but you always could, if you wanted to, or, as the deep insecurities within you often whispered, if John ever wanted you to.

You remind yourself that John asked _you_ to move in. Practically begged, really, even though you wouldn’t have needed all that much convincing. You would spend every second of every minute of every day with John, if you could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. But no matter how much you love someone and how much time you spend with them, it’s different when you know that you have your own room, somewhere else, just in case.

You and John have only been together for four months, one week, and three days. That’s not a very long time to be with someone- in your head you know that it’s probably not a long enough time to move in together. But your heart knew that John was special six years ago, and while you had let that fire die down for most of the time since then, when you kissed John four months, one week, and three days ago, you realized it had been quietly smoldering the whole time, and that kiss was all it took to finally fan it back into a raging flame that has grown every day since. So what would be the point of just sitting around, twiddling your thumbs, holding onto a bedroom that you don’t even use, until some arbitrary point where other people might decide that moving in together is advisable? _You are young! You are in love! You are happy!_ But, for some reason, you are still a little bit scared. And the reminder that moving in with John also means officially leaving Callie, brings just the tiniest sliver of doubt to your mind about whether it's really the right thing to do.

And now on top of all that, you have a book to write. A _real_ book.

“Roxy, are you all right, dear?”

You must have lost track of how long you were silently contemplating, because Callie releases their hug and looks up at you with an expression of warm concern as they break the silence.

“I...I guess I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed, lol! I mean, first the move, and now the book, it’s all just happening really fast, isn’t it? Doesn’t it maybe seem, idk, too good to be true? Like, six years of just kinda chilling with my bestie, having fun, no goals or plans or anything, and then suddenly I gotta be an author _and_ , like, a bonafide grown-ass domestic partner, literally on the same day! But like, I still just kinda feel like the same stupid kid I've always been, you know? Like, what if I fuck this all up? What if something...bad happens? What if this is a mistake? Oh God, I’m a terrible person aren’t I?”

It's been a long time since your last panic attack, but you feel yourself now entering the early stages. You used to alleviate these with a drink or several, but now you just find yourself relying on Callie to hopefully bring you back down. As if they haven't already done enough for you. As if you're not about to abandon them...

“Of course you’re not a terrible person, Roxy! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a few butterflies about these things, they are each rather a big step for you, after all, and to happen on the very same day! Just because you’re feeling nervous doesn’t mean that you can’t also feel excited and happy! It’s quite normal for a person to feel a bit of unease with any sort of major life change, even when they are getting what they want!”

They take both of your hands in theirs and gently squeeze, and look right into your eyes with that warm smile that never fails to put you at ease.

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right…”

And you realize that, yes, they are right. Of course they are! Why are you freaking out about this? This is the best day of your life, and goddammit, you _are_ going to be happy about it! Haven’t you been through enough bullshit in your life, been kind enough, and smart enough, and worked hard enough, that you fucking deserve all of this? Isn’t about goddamn time?

But then you see Callie’s smile suddenly fade, as if they’d just remembered something dire, and now they’re looking at you in a way they’ve never looked at you before. You try to detect what exactly they must be feeling now- you think you can see concern again, but this time it’s colder, and tinged with, you think, regret?

“Roxy, um, this is what you want, isn’t it?”

You continue trying to read their face. Whatever it is they are feeling and why, all it’s doing is making you so badly want to give them whatever answer they are hoping to hear. But you still can’t figure out what that is, so you just decide to say the answer that’s true.

“Yes. Yes, Callie, this is what I want. Thank you for talking some sense into me, as usual, lol! This is what I want! _Yes!_ It is! I _am_ excited, and so happy, and God, I just love her so mu-”

_Fuck._

You had been so careful. But you just had to go and have a whole bunch of _feelings_ and get all swept up in them and let your guard down and _fuck up. Maybe they didn’t notice…?_

Callie’s face relaxes back into its gentle smile.

“Well then I am so very happy for you, Roxy, for you and John both!”

You exhale, believing yourself to have gotten away with your slip. Callie releases your hands after another quick squeeze and begins to head over to the corner where most of your boxes are still stacked, but then stops, and hesitantly turns back towards you.

“Um, though, I do apologize if I’ve missed something, but is she still going by John these days?”

_They noticed._

“OMG Callie _nooooo!_ I am _the worst!_ I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone! Oh fuck, why do I suck so much? You can’t tell anyone, you can’t tell John I told you! Omg omg omg...”

Suddenly the pending panic is rushing back. Callie’s eyes widen, and their cheeks do that adorable thing where they turn a slightly brighter shade of green- at least, it would be adorable if you weren’t busy being absolutely mortified at the moment.

“Oh, oh dear, I… I’m so sorry...I didn’t mean...I shouldn’t have…”

You bury your face in your hands in shame. You can't help but feel like you've just ruined everything already and you haven't even finished packing yet. _Nice going, Lalonde._

“No Callie it’s not your fault at all it’s totally my fault! I just got all excited and giddy and stupid and I just fucked up. Please don’t tell anyone, OK? She only told me cause I told her about me, and we were just having this big heart to heart about gender stuff and sexuality and honesty in relationships and all that, but she’s not ready to tell anyone else so please, _please_ don’t say anything, OK?”

“Of course I won’t, Roxy! You have my word, I will continue to refer to John as ‘he’ until John tells me otherwise. I will be extremely careful... I’m so sorry again…”

They take your hand again and give it a light squeeze to seal the promise. It once again sends a wave of calm through you, and reminds you that in the years you’ve known each other, Callie has not once let you down, and that is enough to completely convince you that they will not do so now. You make sure to show this by forcing your face back into a tense smile, despite the many conflicting emotions you’re still feeling.

“Thanks, Callie. I know, I trust you."

There is a knock on the door. Callie just smiles brightly, more sincerely than you, and picks up the box they had dropped earlier.

“Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe that’s for you! _Uwu!_ ”

Suddenly, your thoughts are overwhelmed with the image of _her_ standing at your front door, undoubtedly more nervous than you are, adorably so, waiting to sweep you off your feet and take you _home_. This assuages your guilt and sets the happy nervous butterflies in your stomach aflutter all over again. It does feel right. It’s good. _This is what you want._

You take a deep breath, grab a box, and then go to answer your front door for the last time.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _True, but there’s no question, there’s no doubt_   
>  _I said I’d stick it out and follow through_   
>  _And when I do_   
>  _Then he smiles_   
> 

It’s 9:37 on Sunday night. Roxy is out of town this weekend. They’re speaking at some conference for...something, you can’t remember. They tell you the names of the conferences and after a while they all started to blend together. Something about trans youth? Or writing about childhood trauma? Or maybe a college graduation? Or maybe that’s the one next month?

Before they left, you told them you were going to spend the time cleaning up your side of the office, clearing off your desk, organizing your books and notebooks and some of the unfinished files on your computer, and might even get started on that new game you’ve been thinking about. You told Roxy this, but you were really telling yourself. And despite years of evidence to the contrary, you believed it. Whether or not Roxy did, you can't say.

And now it’s 9:39 on Sunday night, and Roxy will be home any minute. And you did not clean your desk, organize your files, or work on your game. You somehow let the whole weekend pass without really doing anything.

At 9:42, Roxy comes in, politely kisses your cheek, tells you the conference was _good, good_ when you ask, and asks you how your weekend was. You tell them it was OK, but that you got caught up and didn’t get around to cleaning up the office or working on your game, but you are going to try again tomorrow. They tell you it’s OK, that there’s no rush, but you can tell they are disappointed. You are suddenly filled with self-loathing. Roxy tells you they’re tired and is going to bed. You tell them you’re going to stay up a bit longer. They head upstairs.

It’s 12:41 on Monday afternoon, and you have just woken up. You go downstairs in your pajamas to get some coffee. Roxy is not there. There is still some coffee warming in the pot that Roxy had made probably five hours ago, at least, so you pour it into a cup and head back upstairs. You knock on the door to what was once your dad’s room and is now yours and (mostly) Roxy’s, office. You open the door without prompting. Roxy is at their desk, on the phone, and asks the person on the other end to hold on a sec. They ask you what’s up, a bit annoyed. You tell them sorry, that you just wanted to say hi, that you’ll leave them alone. As you’re closing the door, you notice that your desk has been organized. You feel like shit.

It’s 6:14 on Tuesday morning, and you are in the kitchen making breakfast. Not just ordinary breakfast- bacon, omelets, and pancakes are all simultaneously cooking on three of the four burners on the stove. You are carefully calculating in your extremely tired brain precisely when to flip what, and regretting your decision that serving everything piping hot and fresh was all that important. You have not had time to start on the coffee or the toast, let alone clean up any of your mess, when you are startled by a voice behind you asking what you’re doing. You spin around, embarrassed, and tell Roxy that you didn’t think they’d be up _this_ early, and that you were going to bring them breakfast in bed. They ask you how long you’ve been up, and you tell them you hadn’t been to sleep. They tell you how sweet you are as they approach and wrap their arms around you, burying their face in your shoulder. Spatula in hand, you embrace them right back.

At this moment, absolutely everything is right in the world. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of Roxy’s body against yours, the feeling of love pouring out of them and filling every inch of you, for as long as you can. These are the moments you live for, and if you could, you would never let go. Roxy tells you your bacon is burning. You tell them you don’t care, but they just look up and give you a smile and a quick kiss before pulling themselves free. They ask you how they can help.

It’s 6:29, and you and Roxy sit at your kitchen table having breakfast together. They tell you stories from their conference that weekend (authors under 30 summit,) and from conferences before that, and about how they’ve been stuck on this one section of chapter thirteen, and that the editor wants it by tomorrow. You tell them more about your new game idea, about the new show you just started watching, and about the Best Woman dress Kanaya is making you for Dave’s wedding (it has pockets!) The bacon is only a little bit burnt.

It’s 7:17, your arm is over Roxy’s shoulder and they are leading you upstairs. They tuck you into bed, tell you they’ll wake you up in a few hours, that they’ll clean up the kitchen, and thank you for breakfast. They kiss you, tasting like fresh coffee, and tell you they love you. You tell them you love them, too. By 7:20, you are asleep.

It’s 2:24 on Tuesday afternoon, and you are violently awoken by Roxy bursting through the door and calling your name. They tell you that it’s 2:24, and ask why you’re still asleep. You don’t have time to remind them that they promised to wake you up before they ask you if you’ve seen their good purple shirt. They start ranting about how they have a Pestervid call with their editor in five minutes, that they got caught up on writing and lost track of time, and that they _need_ their good purple shirt. You suggest they check the dryer. They snap at you that if it’s just been sitting in the dryer then it’s too wrinkled, and instead start rummaging through the closet to find anything else acceptable. They mumble something about how you were home all weekend and it would have been nice if you could at least take the clothes out the dryer. You feel like you want to cry. You start to apologize, but Roxy is already out the door with their shirt half off and a different shirt on a hanger in hand. You sit there for another moment, overwhelmed by panic, shame, and exhaustion, unsure what to do.

Eventually, you get up and go downstairs, all the way to the basement. You grab a basket and take the clothes out of the dryer. You head up to the living room, turn on the TV, and start to fold. You leave the basket and head into the kitchen for a snack and see that your mess from this morning is still there. You fight the ensuing anxiety with every ounce of energy you have, and get to work.

You have to take a lot of breaks, and each break drags on longer than you planned, but by 6:43, you are done. The table is cleared, the sink is empty, and the dishwasher is running. The clean clothes have been put away and a new load is spinning in the washer downstairs. You sit down and your stomach promptly reminds you that you have not eaten in over 12 hours, and your brain informs you that there’s no way you are getting up to make dinner after all that. Your heart tells you not to rely on Roxy for dinner either, so you pull out your phone and order delivery from their favorite Dersian restaurant. It arrives at 7:28, but Roxy has still not emerged.

You message them that dinner is ready. They respond that they’re busy and to eat without them, so you do. You leave the rest of the food on the table and leave your own dishes in the sink, telling yourself that you will do them tomorrow, which for some reason, you believe. You go back out to the couch and turn on the TV.

It’s 12:07 am on Wednesday, and you open your eyes to see Roxy’s face smiling back at you. You realize you are still on the couch. Roxy tells you you fell asleep in front of the TV. They tell you that they lost track of time writing again, but that it’s late and you should both go up and go to bed. They tell you they’re so sorry for snapping at you earlier, that they didn’t mean it, and thank you for cleaning up and getting dinner. You tell them you’re sorry for not doing more. They tell you that they know you’re doing your best and they appreciate it, and that it’s not fair that they get so stressed out about work and take it out on you. You tell them it’s OK, and that you’re very proud of them, and that you love them very much.

It’s 12:34, and you come into the bedroom, body, teeth, and clothes freshly cleaned, to find Roxy already snoring with their book on their chest. You gently pry it away, mark the page with the receipt they’ve been using as a bookmark, and place it on their nightstand. You move to turn off their lamp, but take a moment to pause and look at them instead. The familiar feeling of overwhelming love floods your body once again. You have no doubt in your mind that these little moments are worth anything and everything, as few and far between as they seem to be these days. You promise yourself that you’re going to do better, that you’ll keep up a decent sleep schedule, and that you’ll do more around the house, and, for some reason, you believe it. You decide you’ll take a break from the new game, for some reason thinking that there’s anything to take a break from, to focus more on just being a better wife. You decide that one genius, one star, in a marriage is more than enough, and it was never going to be you even if you wanted it to, and you decide that you don’t. You tried, for a little while, to be more like Roxy- to be more than you are, but it didn’t go anywhere, and it certainly didn’t make you happy. But if you can just make this beautiful, incredible, absolutely brilliant person, who, for some reason, chose to spend their life with you, feel taken care of and loved, well, that’s honestly a pretty good reason for living on its own, you think.

You plant a lingering kiss on Roxy’s forehead before finally turning off the light and going around to crawl into your side of the bed. You fall asleep thinking about how lucky you are.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Shouldn't I want the world to see_   
>  _The brilliant girl who inspires me?_

It’s just after midnight on December 26th. You’ve just finished walking your friends and family to the door, giving final Christmas hugs, and, after a few more minutes of lingering conversation from a very tipsy Dave, finally closing the door behind them. John kisses your cheek and tells you she’s going up to bed.

_“Wait!”_

She let's out a startled gasp at your sudden and unintentionally loud demand, then just stares at you with a look of confusion and just a hint of annoyance.

“Lol, sorry! Just...hold on. Sorry! There's one more Christmas thing we gotta do! Wait down here a sec, I'll be quick I promise and then we can go to sleep!”

You sprint up the stairs and into the office, frantically pull open your desk drawer, and grab the meticulously wrapped box you’ve been hiding there for nearly a month. You pause for a moment to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, but it doesn’t do much, and you don’t have much time, so you give up on calm and just hurry back downstairs.

John is dutifully seated back on the couch, the warm glow of the dying fire illuminating her sleepy face. _God, she's beautiful._

You release some of your nervous energy into a frantic grin that's probably more frightening than reassuring, and you slowly approach the couch and sit next to John. She doesn't say anything, just looks at you sleepily, curiously, but patiently. You summon all your courage and focus on remembering what you've been practicing in your head for weeks.

"OK, so, I have one more secret surprise present for you, and it's special so I didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone. And, um, also, it's a two part present, and the first part is a story! And, sorry, I know you're sleepy so I'm gonna try to make it quick!"

She puts her hand on your knee to confirm her cooperation. Her touch calms you, but not completely. You take a deep breath.

"OK, so, this story is an old folktale from the chess guys I grew up with. I mean, I think it is, you know, they can't actually talk, lol! But they used to do a bunch of chalk murals all around town, and there was always one day a year, just around Hanukkah, they would draw this same thing, so I guess it was, like, a holiday for them or something about this one particular story? Idk, but, um, anyway, this is my best interpretation of that…"

You clear your throat for dramatic effect, but mostly for a final moment of procrastination, then you begin your tale:

"OK, so once upon a time, there was a little chess guy. And his job was to be a tailor for all the other chess guys. But I guess he worked for the king and queen so he just had to always make what they wanted him to make. He liked making clothes, but he had all these super cool ideas for really beautiful dresses and suits and all sorts of fancy things that he never had time to make, so he wasn't very happy. He would just get up everyday and get right to work on boring uniforms for all the government officials and courtiers and whatnots, and then by the time he finished it'd be real late and he'd have to go to bed so he could do it all again the next day. It kinda sucked. But then, the heroes arrived!"

"So then one day, the little chess guy was just working away really hard in his little tailor shop, making all the little outfits for all the other chess guys. But now it wasn't just normal boring uniforms, the new outfits were like, really stupid and ugly, but he just had to keep making them as fast as he could cause I guess that's what the heroes' sprites were like so that's what they all had to wear? Idk, we didn't have that in our game, but I think that's how it works? Well, anyway, he was just working all day into the night making these ugly ass outfits and he totally hated it, but he didn't stop or complain cause you know, it was his job, so what else was he gonna do? All the other chess guys needed to get their new outfits _A S A P_ before the heroes found them, so he had to keep working."

"But then, the God of Time shows up at his little shop and tells the little chess tailor guy that he doesn’t have to make all those ugly outfits anymore, that he can start over and get to make whatever kinda outfits he wants! And the chess guy at first was like, _'No thank you Mr. God of Time, sir, this is my job and I gotta do it, I don't have time to make the kinda outfits I want, but that's OK.'_ But the God of Time was so benevolent and nice that he didn’t take no for an answer, so he just picked up the little chess guy and they flew away to a big record planet, and there they met up with the God of Space, I think, and, well, this part isn't super clear, but somehow, all together, they did something to the record planet, and got to go to a whole new place with a new Skaia, and when they got there, all the other chess guys were just wearing all different kinds of clothes! They could just wear whatever they wanted here! So they brought the little chess guy back to his little shop, which I guess was in this version too, and for the first time, he got to just make whatever kinda clothes he wanted! So he made all his pretty designs and gave them out to his new friends, and they all looked so good!! And he made himself the most beautiful outfit with lots of colors and big poofy sleeves and a big skirt, and, well, the outfit was different in all the different murals, but the point is, it was beautiful and very fancy and cool! And the little chess guy was finally free to be himself, and he was finally happy. And all cause someone believed in him, and cared about him enough to push him to follow his dream and be himself. And help him, and...tell him it was OK..."

You take a moment to gage her expression again. She clearly just wants you to get on with it so she can open her present and go to bed, despite her polite and encouraging smile. You take another deep breath and press on.

“Um, the end. Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that story as part of your gift cause it just kinda reminds me of you, and some of the stuff you’ve been going through, and, um…”

You nervously hand her the box.

“I guess...I hope this helps.”

She takes the box, giving your hand a quick squeeze, and you watch anxiously as she clumsily unwraps it. Paper removed, she pulls off the lid, while your eyes remain fixated, unblinking, on her face, waiting for her reaction.

Inside is a necklace. A simple silver chain, and in the center, a nameplate, in tasteful silver cursive, a single word:

_June_

“OK, before you say anything, I promise I wasn’t like, going through your stuff or trying to be sneaky or anything, I would never do that! I was just taking out the recycling and the bag broke and spilled everything all over the floor and when I went to clean it all up and I, um, accidentally found your list. And I thought all of the names you came up with were so beautiful, even all the ones you crossed out! But then I saw you circled “June” and as soon as I saw it, I just knew it felt right. It felt like you!”

She continues to stare at the necklace, her face locked in a tense yet indiscernible expression. She doesn’t say anything. You knew this was a risky move going in, but you didn't really let yourself believe that it actually might backfire, not until now. Your only move is to try to talk your way out of some of the potentially dire consequences that are seeming more likely each second she stares silently at the gift.

"Of course, if you don't like it I can return it, we can get a different one, or just pick out a completely different gift that has nothing to do with any of this! Or if you're just not ready I can hide it away in my sock drawer or something until you are, I totally promise I won't get upset at all! Whatever you want is totally fine, I promise! Just let me know what you want to do."

She looks for a moment like she might be about to say something, but she either couldn’t find the words, or maybe you just imagined it. You let the silence be for a few more seconds in case she tries again, but soon enough it becomes unbearable.

"OK, listen...I know it's not my place to pick your name, or force you out of the closet, or whatever, I know, and I'm sorry if it seems like that's what I'm trying to do. But…"

Your boldness starts to return to you. Whatever damage you’ve done with your crazy idea of a romantic gesture is done, so there's nothing to lose at this point.

"...I think you already picked it, baby. I could see it just in the way your handwriting was different, the way you left an extra space between ‘June’ and the rest of the list. Even before you circled it, maybe even before you wrote it, I'm pretty sure you already picked it. And, besides all that, I know how hard all this has been for you, and how you just needed some time to really be ready, and that’s all OK! And I will always be right here with you no matter how long it takes, and I will always love you no matter what! I love you no matter what your name is, or what your gender is, or what everyone else thinks your gender is, of course I do, more than anything, and I know you know all that already... But, sweetie, I also know _you_ , and I think you _are_ ready. I think, maybe, you've _been_ ready. I think you’re just scared. I think...you just need someone to tell you it's OK."

At that you can see her eyes start to water. You take one more risk to put your hand on her cheek, wiping away the tear with your thumb. She finally looks up to meet your eyes.

"Baby, _it's OK_. You can do this. You _deserve_ this. And you're not alone."

She looks at you, tears continuing to slowly fall, then back at the necklace again for a few silent seconds. You remove your hand from her face and just watch and wait. You've said all you have to say, and you won't know for sure if this was all a terrible idea until she's ready to tell you, and you can decide what to do from there. So you sit in silence for several more painful seconds and just watch.

She closes her eyes and sighs. Then she looks back at you and, though you need a few seconds to convince yourself you're not imagining it, she smiles. She hands you the box, and your heart drops for just a second before you realize she's turning around. She holds up her hair, rather unnecessarily, as it has just barely started to reach the back of her neck, and with possibly the greatest sense of relief you've ever experienced, you dutifully take the necklace out of its box and place it around her neck. Once you’ve gotten it clasped, you let her know with a gentle kiss on the back of her neck. All at once she rotates back towards you and throws her arms around you tight, burying her face in your shoulder.

The two of you just sit there holding each other wordlessly for several perfect minutes. Finally, so softly you can barely hear, she whispers a shaky 'thank you.' You squeeze her even tighter.

"Merry Christmas, June."


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ve found my guiding light, I tell the stars each night_   
>  _'Look at me, look at him_   
>  _Son of a bitch! I guess I’m doing something right!'_

You are far away from your home, and even farther away from your spouse, and despite your best efforts to remain positive and enjoy your long weekend, you really would just much rather be home with Roxy, doing absolutely nothing. Instead, you are in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the Human Kingdom, headlining the second annual _GodCon_. This is your fourth, no, _fifth_ convention now, and though they have gotten easier as you’ve gotten the gist of them, you had hoped that once the anxiety died down you’d be able to actually enjoy them, but, for the most part, you don’t. You’d think that thousands of people traveling long distances just to catch a glimpse of you in the flesh and hear you talk about yourself for an hour would be a pretty sweet ego boost, but all it does is make you feel like an imposter. Of all the people you know, you are certain that you are the least impressive, least interesting, and least accomplished (at least in your time on this planet,) so their admiration just makes you feel guilty, like you don’t deserve it- like you’re taking it away from someone who actually does.

Then again, you know for a fact that you are never the only Creator that gets asked to appear at these things, so if any of your friends wanted the attention, they could have it. But they don’t, or they just have better things to do with their time. You do not. Not anymore. And even if you’d _prefer_ to be home with Roxy doing nothing at all, Roxy does things, and you figure you’re better off doing something too, than always just staying home doing nothing all alone.

Your Q&A panel just ended, and you’ve managed to sneak away from the crowd and find yourself a hiding spot backstage. You fish your phone out of your pocket, a difficult task considering how tight your Heir of Breath pants have become.

 _Missed call from_ Roxy <3 _1:04 PM_  
_Missed call from_ Roxy <3 _1:26 PM_  
_Missed call from_ Roxy <3 _1:59 PM_  
_Missed call from_ Roxy <3 _2:13 PM_

You panic for a moment, thinking that you might have fucked up when telling them your event schedule, or worse, that something horrible happened, but then you remember how Roxy has a habit of miscalculating time zones, and chalk it up to that. They had missed a few calls from you this morning before your panel, so they were probably just trying to reach you while they could manage a break. You tap one of the notifications then the little phone icon and it starts ringing.

_Heyyyyyy it’s Roxy! Sorry I can’t talk now! You can leave a message if you want but tbh I’m probs not gonna check it, so just text me or Pester me and I’ll respond when I can! OK byyyyyye!_

You hang up. You open your contacts and tap Roxy Work Cell, and it rings.

_Hi there! You’ve reached Roxy Lalonde, I’m sorry I can’t answer your call right now, but please leave a detailed message with your name and callback number and I will respond as soon as I’m able. For speaking inquiries please contact my publicist at…_

You hang up. Sometimes Roxy just forgets their personal phone in their hotel room when they’re on their work trips, but you must have just missed your window and they must be actually busy now. They always let you know their schedule for the weekend too, but a lot of their supposed free time tends to fill pretty quickly with unscheduled networking, impromptu coffees with industry bigwigs, run-ins with fans that they’re too gracious to cut-off, or any number of things that super famous best-selling authors that are also gods of the universe tend to get up to. You open your PesterChum app.

ectoBiologist  [EB] began pestering tipsyGnostalic [TG]

EB: hey babe, sorry i missed all your calls, i was doing my panel  
EB: and now i just have a few minutes before i have to go do photos :/  
EB: but i’m done at 4:00 (6:00 for you) and free after that for the day so i’ll try again then  
EB: ok, well i’m sorry i missed you, i hope everything’s going ok over there!  
EB: i love you!

ectoBiologist  [EB] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalic [TG]

You force your phone back into your pocket with a sigh just as the intern they’ve stuck with you for the weekend manages to find you.

“Um, sorry to bother you, Mrs. Egbert, but they’re ready for you for the photos now.”

“Yeah, OK, thanks. I’m coming.”

You glance up at the clock on the jumbotron suspended from the convention hall ceiling. It’s 4:09 PM. You were hoping you’d be able to hold out a little bit longer since you last looked up at 4:07, but you are just too antsy with desperation for this to be over. It was _supposed_ to end at 4:00, and it could have, but just as you were about to be ushered away to freedom, you made the mistake of looking down the still considerable line at all the heartbroken young faces, masquerading as all your dearest loved ones, and you told the person you believed to be in charge that you could stay until 4:30 out of sheer guilt. This is not the first time you’ve done this, and like always, you regretted it immediately, but regret it more and more with each passing minute and each buzz from your pocket.

_Roxy’s dinner doesn’t start until 5:00 my time, I’ll just call back right at 4:30. And then we’ll talk again later tonight. It’s fine._

So you stand there and smile for the camera, joined by a Jade, then a Jake, a Rose and Kanaya, two Karkats, a few kids in what you assume they’ve decided their own God-tier outfits would be, and several Junes, watching the minutes tick by agonizingly slowly. Finally, it’s 4:28, and as if the universe itself wanted to fuck with you, a little pre-teen Roxy approaches- blonde wig, alarmingly accurate Rouge of Void costume, holding a plain green cube. Just like when you first met. Your phone buzzes again, and you have to strain to keep from audibly groaning. Instead you jump right into your rehearsed greeting to speed things along.

“Hi, thanks for coming! I’m June, what’s your name?”

The poor kid looks like they're about to pass out or cry or shit their pants, or maybe all three, but that's nothing new to you anymore. It actually helped you overcome a lot of your own anxiety about these meet and greets with hundreds of strangers to realize that they are more nervous than you, and it’s your job, as an adult, a celebrity, and a god, to put aside your own neuroses and make them feel comfortable. You channel all of your strength into hiding your desperation to leave, and put on your warmest smile.

"Um, Devin. Hi."

They’re practically whispering, and their eyes are firmly fixed on the floor. You press on.

"Hi Devin! I like your outfit, obviously, haha! So how would you like to pose for the picture?"

"Oh, um, it's OK, we can just stand."

"Yeah, OK, sure."

So you awkwardly position yourself to the right of poor terrified Devin and smile at the camera. The instant after it flashes you turn back towards them to shake hands and say goodbye, but they are not facing you, and they are not smiling. Usually people relax a bit by this point, but they look just as panicked as ever.

"Hey, um, Devin, are you OK? We can try one more photo if you weren’t ready…"

"I'm... non-binary."

"Oh. OK…"

You're really not sure why they just said that, but you're trying to be polite, although you do still really want to get this over with so you can actually speak to the real Roxy today.

"I haven't told anyone yet, but I wanted to tell you. And I just wanted to tell you that I didn't know what non-binary was until Roxy said they are, and I never would have figured it out without them, and that... they're my hero. And you probably get this all the time, but if you could please tell them thank you for me I'd, um, really appreciate it."

 _Whoa_. Wow, that has never happened before. You just stand there in silence for a moment, all sense of urgency gone, just trying to not to cry.

"Sorry, I mean, you're also my hero, and I think it’s really cool that you’re trans, too, and I'm really glad to meet you…"

"No, Devin, I get it, believe me. Roxy’s my hero, too."

You are now dangerously close to losing your cool in front of this child as the truth of your own words hits you. God, how damn lucky are you that you get to be married to your hero? And also, like, an _actual_ hero to probably thousands of kids. And also, probably so are you? Like, maybe these annoying photo ops aren't just a cool thing to do for some of these kids- maybe they actually...help them...?

You start to feel the slightest tremble in your lip, so you clear your throat and keep talking to drown out your emotions.

"But yeah, I will definitely tell Roxy what you said, I know they'll be so touched to hear it. Actually, talk to that lady by the exit after this and give her your address and I know Roxy would love to send you a letter to thank you for your kind words! If that's OK with you, and your parents, I mean, you don’t have to obviously..."

Devin's face is now bright red, but for the first time, you see a slight smile break out on their face.

"Oh! Yes, that would be amazing! Thank you so much!"

"Absolutely! Hey, thank _you_! Really."

You offer your hand and Devin weakly shakes it before turning to leave.

“Oh, wait, Devin?”

They look back.

“Uh, it’s not as scary as you think it’s gonna be.”

Devin’s face seems to pale a little bit, but after a moment they give you a small nod and make their way towards the exit. Before you know it, the event staff start clearing away the rest of the crowd and your intern leads you out the back barely before you have time to wave.

You never liked doing these conventions, you probably still won’t, all in all. You always felt like just a novelty to these people, not a person yourself, and honestly, that’s fine. People are allowed to have frivolous hobbies and parasocial attachments to celebrities, _lord knows you always have,_ but being on the receiving end just never felt right. Especially since all of this is the result of you failing at your one real grown-up life goal. But you never even considered that any of this might actually be doing some real good for someone. You never in a million years thought that you might just be an actual role model just for being who you are and showing up. You know Roxy is incredible and accomplished, obviously, but it never occurred to you that they could do for random kids from the middle of nowhere what they did for you, and that you could be a part of it too. You wonder if Harry Anderson ever came out as trans and then came to your town to meet you, how different your life might have been. And was also married to Matthew McConaughey...who was also trans...?

You quickly give up on trying to form a sensical analogy. But, for the first time, you leave the convention hall feeling pretty OK about yourself.

By the time you’re back in the quiet of your room it’s 4:42. You pull out your phone to see that you have three more missed calls and several Pesterchum messages from Roxy. You call back…

_Heyyyyyy it’s Roxy! Sorry I…_

You hang up and pull up Pesterchum instead.

ectoBiologist  [EB] began pestering tipsyGnostalic [TG]

EB: hi! i’m so sorry my thing ran late! :(  
EB: you must be on your way to the dinner already  
EB: i’m done for the day now so call me when you’re done if you’re not too tired  
EB: i have something really cool to tell you :)  
EB: ok, have fun, i love you

You start to put your phone down but change your mind.

EB: oh, also  
EB: thanks for marrying me <3


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I will never be complete_   
>  _I will never be alive_   
>  _I will never change the world until…_   
>  _...I do_

You walk through the park on your way to the boat rental shack, picnic basket in one hand and June’s hand in the other. You are extremely aware of the unusual amount of sweat your hands are producing, but thankfully, somehow, June doesn’t seem to notice, or at least is sweet enough to pretend not to. You both walk along in uncharacteristic silence, too preoccupied with your own to notice hers. When you finally do notice, you decide to take the risk of looking back to where she is lagging just slightly behind you to try to find any clues about her state of mind in her face.

June is looking straight down at the dirt path under her feet- her face slightly pale and her expression blank. You take another risk to ask…

“You OK, Juney?”

She seems startled by the question at first, but then tells you that she’s fine, just a little hungry. She then startles you by asking in turn if you are OK.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, haha, also just hungry! We’re almost there though and then we can eat on the boat!”

You look back ahead just in time before you can feel the blood rush into your cheeks.

_Almost there…_

June waits on the dock while you go inside to pay for your boat and pick up your required life vests, which you will not be wearing because you and your sweetheart are both immortal gods. Your hand is still so moist and unsteady that you drop your credit card, and make such a frightening involuntary sound in response that the teenager behind the counter asks you if you’re OK. You ignore him and instead just scramble to pick it up, then turn around to make sure June didn’t see or hear any of that, but luckily she is at the end of the dock just staring out at the lake.

_Breathe, Lalonde. You can do this…_

The sky is cloudless, the air is warm, the water is clear, and the now eaten lunch was delicious, but you barely notice any of these things as you sit in silence at the back of the small rowboat. All you know is that the most beautiful woman in the world is sitting there at the front of this very boat, silently staring out at the lake.

_OK, now or never._

“Um, Juney? I, um, have something I want to say real quick…ok but let me go first, it’s kinda important…”

_Breathe._

“OK, here it goes. I just want to say that knowing you, getting to know you more and more every day, getting to watch you and be with you as you figure out who you wanna be and try so hard to be that person, and getting to love you through it all, and you loving me, it’s been… it’s more than I ever could have imagined or hoped for myself. And having you by my side for all of this stuff with the book and the speaking tours and everything has just been...I honestly don’t think I could do any of it without you! Like, literally, I’d just be like, ' _nope, sorry, not doing it!'_ Haha…”

_Focus._

“And watching you work on your game was like, for real, the coolest shit ever! It was seriously so good, Juney, I’m like, blown away whenever I think about this thing that you just made out of your brain! And even though it didn’t work out exactly how you were hoping this time, I’m still really proud of you for putting yourself out there, I know how hard that was for you. And I know you’ll get a game of your own out there someday! You are just the most smart and creative and talented and kind and strong and beautiful and incredible person, and I don’t think enough people really see that and I hope that someday they do, but _I_ see it every second I’m with you and it just...it fills my heart in ways I never even thought were possible!”

You take another deep breath, but this time it’s not enough to stop you from shaking.

“Juney, I...know that you and me are probably gonna live forever, or at least a really really long time, and tbh that’s kinda terrifying to me cause, like, I don’t even know what I want for dinner tonight, lol! And I know we don’t know what’s gonna happen, or how things are gonna change, or how we’re gonna change, or if any of this is even really _real_ , or whatever the fuck that even _means_ , but… I do know that I don’t want to spend another minute of my life not being yours, and you being mine, as fully and completely as possible. So, um…”

You’re shaking so hard now that the boat itself vibrates, but you couldn’t stop now even if you wanted to, and you don’t want to. You clumsily push yourself forward off of your seat and onto one knee, pull the box out of your jacket pocket, and present the sapphire and aquamarine ring inside.

“...June Egbert, will you marry me?”

************

“ _Roxy_ …”

Their name is all you can manage to say, at first. It escapes your lips like it wasn’t even you that said it, like it’s the only word that could possibly encapsulate everything you’re feeling at this moment, so it just went ahead and said itself. But then you look, really look, at their face, so raw and so loving and so desperate and so _goddamn beautiful_ , and you know that you have to find your own words- you have to try to explain yourself to this person who, for some reason, loves you more than anything, and is waiting on you for an answer.

“Roxy, I’m a fucking mess. No, just let me finish, please. It’s not even about my stupid game, or the stupid cons, or your book, I mean, no, the book is amazing Roxy, I’m so fucking proud of you, but… that’s not what matters. Not really. It’s more than that. It’s…”

You feel the tears start to sting your eyes but you look away and manage to fight them back.

“I am... not a complete person. Like, deep down in my very soul, or whatever. I’ve always sort of felt that way, but sometimes I’m kinda good at ignoring it and distracting myself with stupid shit like making games or playing stupid pranks or just hanging out or whatever. And, yeah, sometimes something actually big and important comes up, like altering reality to save the universe and everyone that matters to me, and yeah, that sorta thing keeps me feeling pretty OK about myself for a good while, but in the end it never lasts. At the end of the day it’s always just been me and my big gaping hole inside to keep me company…”

A single tear manages to escape and drips slowly down your cheek.

“Shit, this is not how I wanted this to go at all. I had planned out everything I wanted to say but, now…”

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“I just… I don’t want to hurt you, Roxy. I’ve never been more terrified of anything in my life as I am of hurting you. And I want nothing more than to be able to promise you that I can be with you for literally ever and never let you down, but...but I can’t...”

_Get to the point, Egbert._

“God, I just keep fucking this up, this is why I should never try to plan anything... Well, it doesn’t matter now I guess…”

You finally abandon your seat to meet Roxy on the floor of the boat. You take their hand in yours and you look them straight in the eye.

“My point is, Roxy, that _you_ are what fills that hole inside me. _Only_ you. I never understood the word ‘ _soulmate_ ’ and honestly always thought the idea was kinda stupid, but now I don’t know how else to explain how I feel about you, or how you make me feel about myself. Part of me knows that I’ll probably never be good enough for you, but a bigger part of me knows that somehow that doesn’t matter, because whatever universe we’re in, whether it’s real or fake or doomed or whatever, here, now, we belong together. So, I guess, what I’m trying to say is…”

With another deep breath, you slide your trembling hand into your dress pocket, pull out the small box, and flick it open.

“... _yes_. Yes, Roxy, I will marry you.”

The boat comes dangerously close to tipping over as Roxy suddenly lunges into your arms. They press their mouth so deeply into yours that you can’t tell which tears and which smile belongs to which of you, but you don’t care. The whole world is just smiles and tears and mouths and arms and you and Roxy, and it is perfect.

“I just have one condition though…”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Only if you marry me!”

“Hmmmm….well...yeah, I guess I could think about it!”

They’re right back to kissing you again before your laugh can escape.

The sun is showing signs of getting ready to set before you finally break free long enough to let Roxy slide their ring on your finger, (first, they insisted, because they asked first,) and then you slide yours onto theirs. A short while later, Roxy retakes their seat in the back of the boat and rows you back to the dock, and you spend the ride on the boat’s floor with your head in their lap.

************

Your legs feel so weak that you practically let Roxy drag you through the park. You find it hard to believe that they don’t notice how disgustingly sweaty your hand is, but, of course, they would never mention it even if they did...

You almost let out a yell when they suddenly break the silence to ask if you’re OK.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just kinda hungry, I guess, haha! Um…are you OK?”

They tell you that they’re also kinda hungry, and you can’t spare the brain capacity to even consider not believing them. When they turn around your free hand instinctively goes for the pocket of your sundress.

_Yes, it’s still there. Breathe._

Roxy goes into the shack to rent the boat, and you find yourself at the end of the dock, eyes fixed on the lake. You thought you heard a noise inside, but by the time you glance over, Roxy is just standing at the counter paying for the boat. You take the opportunity while their back is to you to quickly pull the box out of your pocket and sneak a peek at the ring inside. It looks the same as it did last time you checked, a heart-shaped diamond surrounded by tiny pink sapphires. The sight of it is enough to send a wave of peace through you. It’s beautiful, it’s perfect, Roxy will love it, and they’ll say yes.

_Oh God, they will say yes, right?_

You just manage to tuck the ring back away when you hear Roxy and the boat rental kid come out to the dock- he’s saying something about safety procedures and liability and other such nonsense that would probably be important if you and your partner weren’t both immortal gods. The time for panic and doubt is mercifully over. You are officially doing this.

_You can do this._

You take a deep breath and head over to meet them by the boat.


	9. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s not a problem_   
>  _It’s just a challenge_   
>  _It’s a challenge to resist_   
>  _Temptation_
> 
> _*********_
> 
> _And once again, I’ll be_   
>  _So proud to call you mine_   
>  _When finally you come home to me_

“Juney, are you mad at me?”

You are both sitting up in bed, you with a book, June with her face in her phone. She does this every night no matter her mood, but you can tell by the tightness in her forehead, the intensity of her scrolling, and the fact that she hasn’t interrupted your reading to show you any funny memes or cute animal videos, that she is clearly upset about something. In fact, you realize that she hasn’t said a word to you since you got inside. You have had to learn to pick up on these little quirks of hers, since she is not one to tell you in words when something is wrong, not unprompted at least. You dog-ear your page and set the book down on your nightstand.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know you don’t like the parties. You know I wouldn’t make you go if it was just for funsies but, you know, it’s just part of the job! I wish being a writer was just writing, believe me, but it’s not, you gotta be places and see people and be seen, and, you know, network!”

June makes a small disgruntled noise.

“What!?”

She doesn’t respond.

“ _What!?_ ” you ask again more insistently.

Without looking up, she mumbles about how you looked like you were networking pretty hard with that waitress. She asks how the waitress is going to help you get your next book published. You can’t help but laugh at that, but then she finally looks at you and the daggers in her eyes make it clear that she does not think it’s funny.

“Aww, sweetie is that what you’re upset about? Baby, come on, I was just being nice! She’s in school for creative writing, I was just giving her some advice! What’s wrong with that?”

June asks if putting your hand on her arm was part of the advice.

“OK, Juney, I’m sorry, but now you’re being unreasonable!”

She tells you you were _flirting_ with her, in a very accusatory tone.

“I was not _flirting_ , Juney! Believe me, if I were _flirting_ you would know! I’m just a friendly person, I’m affectionate, this isn’t news to you! In fact, I seem to recall you rather liking that about me...”

As you say this, you begin to gently stroke her forearm with your fingertips. For a brief second she seems to have fallen under your spell, but then remembers again that she’s mad at you and rolls over, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

“Juney come on! Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had a bad time and the party and I had fun! And I’m sorry that I never get to pay enough attention to you at these things. I know it must be boring, but I need you there, baby, that’s just part of the deal I’m afraid! You’re my wife and it would look very bad if you didn’t come…”

June makes another little noise to express her dissatisfaction with your response. You realize that you don’t blame her for that, as it wasn’t really an apology at all. You center yourself and try again.

“ _OK_... I’m sorry if I upset you by being too friendly with the waitress. I mean it, Juney, I’m sorry, I feel bad. I get into party mode and I just get a little carried away sometimes, I can’t help it. I know it comes more naturally for me than it does for you, and that’s fine, but I still have to really focus to make sure I stay charming and engaging and interesting all night long, and… I get carried away.”

She doesn’t turn back around, but she also doesn’t resist when you place your hand on her shoulder.

“Do you forgive me?”

She waits a few seconds and then mumbles ‘ _maybe_ ’. _Maybe_ is enough, you can work with _maybe_. You slide yourself down, wrap your free arm around her, and rest your chin gently on her shoulder so that your mouth is just an inch away from her ear.

“ _Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?_ ” you whisper in your most comically exaggerated seductive voice. Her cheek twitches. _Bingo_.

“Ha! I saw that June Egbert! That was a smile! You’re busted!”

June giggles and rolls around to face you, admitting defeat. She lays her face just in front of yours and looks at you with big sparkling blue eyes that you just can’t resist.

“Well, hey there, beautiful...”

She reminds you that you promised to make it up to her.

“Say no more...”

You reach around to cradle the back of June’s neck in your hand, lacing your fingers through her thick black hair, and pull her into a deep kiss.

_Lalonde, you are simply too good..._

********

  
ectobiologist [EB] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

EB: hey roxy! <3   
EB: i know you’re probably super busy with your conference   
EB: i just wanted to say hi   
EB: and i miss you   
EB: i would say i wish you were here, but i think you would kinda hate this tbh, so i don’t!   
EB: if anything i wish i were wherever you are right now!   
EB: cause honestly, this whole thing is just kinda...awkward…?   
EB: idk, i know i probably just need to give it more of a chance   
EB: and i know i should be grateful that they even asked me to do this   
EB: i mean, i am, it’s a cool opportunity   
EB: it’s cool that people are interested in us and our story!   
EB: i guess i still just kinda wish that i was actually the one who got to tell it...   
EB: i mean, they let me play a little bit of the GodQuest demo and it’s ok, definitely a lot better than mine would have turned out tbh   
EB: though i guess they did take a lot of, uh... liberties...   
EB: like, there’s a whole level called “the dark forest” (???) where you have to go around killing salamanders, but they’re like, giant scary salamanders with big sharp teeth   
EB: and there’s also like, a killer fungus that if you step on it it drains your health unless you do a healing spell   
EB: i mean, i can’t do healing spells, obviously, in real life, but, you know, i guess that’s just kinda a standard video game thing so they decided to throw it in   
EB: i probably should have thought of that when i was still working on my game honestly   
EB: not that it would’ve mattered though anyway...   
EB: ugh, i’m sorry i didn’t mean to just start complaining at you   
EB: i’m sure the panel will be fun!   
EB: and everyone’s been really nice and supportive about my new name, and, you know, gender, lol!   
EB: well, almost everyone, but i guess that’s just sorta how it goes…   
EB: i mean, it’s kinda weird that people are cosplaying me and selling art of me, ngl, but at the same time, it’s kinda nice to see hundreds of people walking around like, affirming my womanhood…?   
EB: like, yeah, here’s _june_ in a pretty dress because why not? lol!   
EB: oh yeah, and i even saw a bunch of people dressed up as you! XD   
EB: some of them are pretty good, actually!   
EB: but of course, nothing can compare to the real thing ;)   
EB: it does just kinda make me miss you more though   
EB: i miss you so much   
EB: i know it’s only been a few days, i just always kinda feel like there’s a part of me missing when we’re not together   
EB: as cheesy and cliche as that sounds, but that is honestly how it feels   
EB: sorry, you’re busy, i’ll leave you alone   
EB: i gotta get ready soon anyway   
EB: i should be done around 10 if you’re free and maybe wanna call   
EB: ok, i’ll talk to you soon!   
EB: i love you <3

  
ectobiologist [EB] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

*******

You had just finished loading your cart full of groceries into the car and sat down, and as is your custom, you check your phone before starting on your drive home.

**4 UNREAD MESSAGES**

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hi, Roxy, it’s Claire! From the party the other night- I was the one telling you about some of my short stories...  
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I just wanted to thank you again for offering to help, I know you must be super busy!  
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I was wondering though if I could take you up on that coffee so we could maybe go over a few of them together? My treat, of course!  
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m flexible so just let me know when works for you! And thank you again! ;)

_UGH, did she have to add the little winky face?_

You sit and read the texts several times, as if to commit them to memory before doing what you know you have to do, but really don’t want to...

**ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO BLOCK THIS NUMBER?**

**NO YES**

You close your eyes and press **YES**.

_Sorry, Claire. You are extremely cute, but some things are just more important..._

You put your phone away and drive home, where your wife is waiting for you.


	10. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels_   
>  _To be trotting along at the genius’s heels_

"OK! So, uh, as you can see, the controls are pretty simple, you use the arrows to move, spacebar to jump, and hold the spacebar to fly… no, wait, sorry, hold on just a sec…"

You are standing in a conference room at Monsoon Entertainment headquarters, in front of a dozen or so white men and one white woman, just hoping at this point that they don’t notice how much you've started to sweat. Needless to say, this is not going how you'd hoped- same as the last time, and the time before that. There are only so many big name game companies on Earth C, even fewer who have agreed to meet with you, despite your complete lack of experience, just because, well, you’re you, and you are very aware of the rate at which you are burning through them.

"Haha! Sorry, holding the spacebar is _supposed_ to make you fly, I’m not sure what happened there. Well, you know, it's still in pretty early stages, obviously I can get the bugs all sorted out before it's released…"

"Of course, I think we all get the idea, very well done, Mr. Egbert…"

"Oh, please, call me John! Mr. Egbert was my dad, haha!"

You make yourself briefly sad with the thought of your dad, but your nerves and strong desire to impress these people force the cliché out of you. As much as you are aware that the name that paradox space/time shenanigans randomly assigned you is probably the most masculine of the former English speaking world, at the very least it's not preceded by a word that literally means ' _you, sir, are a man,_ ' so it’s preferable for now.

"Yes, John, interesting premise, you’ve definitely got something there!”

That is not what you were expecting to hear, and all thoughts of your dad or your gender or your broken flying code are wiped away by an unexpected wave of optimism.

“You...like it?”

The head White Man and a few of the other white men silently eye each other for just a brief moment before head White Man continues.

“Mr. Egbert, why don’t we head back to my office and you and I can discuss next steps. Thanks, everyone!”

Everyone gets up, a few of them mutter a quick “thank you” or “nice to meet you” to you as they filter past you on their way out. When the room is mostly empty, Mr. Head White Man invites you to follow him out. He leads you down a hall with cubicles to one side and lavish glass-walled meeting rooms and private offices on the other. He points out a few of the people you pass along the way, telling you who they are, what they do, what games they’ve worked on, and offers you something to drink as you pass a kitchen area, but you find it hard to focus on anything other than the intense anxiety coursing through your entire body. You can barely hear him speak over the words “ _discuss next steps_ ” replaying on a loop in your head. _That has to mean they want the game, doesn’t it? There aren’t any next steps after ‘no thank you, count us out,’ right? But...your presentation sucked... didn’t it? But… they got the idea, and they liked it, right…?_

You don’t even realize you’ve reached your destination until Mr. White Man interrupts your internal monologue with a polite “Please, have a seat.” He motions to a large leather armchair in front of his large mahogany desk, so you sit, and then he takes his own seat across from you.

“First of all, all of us at Monsoon want to again thank you for taking the time to meet with us today.”

“Yeah, of course, thank you for taking the time to meet with me!”

“And we really appreciate the effort and creativity you’ve put into _Journey to Skaia_. It’s really quite impressive for a beginner, and all on your own too! Really impressive!”

“Oh, uh, yeah, thank you…”

It didn’t actually sound much like a compliment, and you’re starting to get more and more confused, which at the very least is distracting you from the usual dread and self-loathing you feel at this point in your pitch meetings.

“And, according to our market research, your intuition that a game based on yours and your fellow Creators’ experiences in Sburb would be something that people would want to play was exactly spot on! Great instincts on that one!”

“Oh, yeah, well, you know, they say ‘write what you know,’ so that’s really just what I was doing I guess…”

“Yes, even better!”

“Haha, yeah, I guess so…”

“Again, all of us here at Monsoon are very excited about how this all came together, and we’re really looking forward to a potential partnership with you, Mr. Egbert! So, as for next steps…”

At this point your anxiety about whether or not your dream is about to come true or be crushed yet again finally overcomes your anxiety about being professional and polite. You have reached your limit with corporate doublespeak and just need to know what the hell is going on.

“Sir, sorry to interrupt, sorry, I’m just... are you going to buy my game or not?”

Mr. White Man is noticeably caught off guard by your question. He pauses just for a second, looking at you first with confusion and then something else- you don’t recognize it immediately but then it dawns on you. It’s pity.

_Of course. Why would you ever expect anything different?_

“Actually, Mr. Egbert…”

“John, please…”

“...John, sorry, I’m afraid there may have been a slight...miscommunication. There’s actually another reason why we asked you here today. You see, our own team has been working on a game that's quite similar to yours. We were hoping to wait until it was closer to the release date to reach out to try to bring you onboard, but a buddy of mine over at IO tipped me off after you pitched to them a few weeks ago, and, well, Monsoon is very interested in making sure we’re all on the same page before things progress too far on either of our ends.”

You need a moment to process what he just said. You’ve gotten used to flatout rejection by now, but this is...not what you were expecting. Mr. White Man must notice your reaction, because, for once, he shuts up and let’s you think in peace.

“Um, OK. Similar how, exactly?”

“Well, frankly, Mr. Egbert, the premise is almost exactly the same.”

“Oh.”

“The legends about you and your fellow Creators and the origin of our universe have been public domain for...well...a few millennia at this point, and since you all returned a few years ago, our market research found a spike in public interest. So, you see, this has actually been in development for some time…”

“So… you don’t want to make my game.”

“I’m afraid, Mr. Egbert, at this point, we couldn’t even if we did want to.”

“Right.”

“But, our executive team has discussed it, and we all would very much like to bring you in to be a part of this project! We’re calling it ‘ _GodQuest_.’ We’re planning a major marketing campaign for this thing and we would love it if you, Mr. Egbert, would be the face of it. And not just that! We had initially planned for the player character to be customizable, but we’ve discussed it with the creative team and they are all onboard to tweak the design and the story to make it you! You will be the star of your very own video game! And of course, we’d all be very open to any feedback or suggestions you may have, and naturally you’d be getting a producer credit as well as a generous contract…”

He’s now once again talking faster than you’re able to take it all in. Your head spins as you try to picture the completely different direction your life may be about to take than anything you’d ever imagined. You try to picture your game, but different. Better. But not yours.

You picture yourself, rendered in the most cutting-edge digital animation, mass distributed into hundreds of thousands of homes, immortalized forever, _a 13 year old boy._

“Mr. Egbert?”

You’re startled back to reality.

“Yes! Yes, sorry. Uh, well, wow, I mean, that’s...not what I was expecting. I mean, sorry, it’s great, it’s really an amazing offer and I appreciate it! It’s just, uh...would it be OK if I took some time to think about it?”

“Absolutely! Take all the time you need! I’ll have my secretary print up a copy of the preliminary contract for you to take and look over, run it by your attorney, sleep on it, whatever you need to do. And here’s my card…”

He takes a pen and circles something on the card before handing it to you.

“...and that is my direct line- please don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions or concerns, or, of course, once you’ve made your decision.”

“Of course. Yeah, I will. Thank you.”

Mr. White Man walks you out to his secretary’s desk, shakes your hand, and retreats back into his office. After a minute, the secretary hands you a neatly arranged portfolio containing the contract, an expensive looking Monsoon branded pen, and a few more business cards for good measure, and cheerfully escorts you to the elevators. You make your way down to the parking garage, wander for a few minutes until you find your car, and then get in and just sit.

You open the portfolio and start to read the contract. It’s at least a few dozen pages long, but you don’t manage to get past the first paragraph before the legal mumbo-jumbo starts to give you a stress headache. It only now occurs to you that maybe having an attorney is something you should have looked into before attempting to strike a huge deal with a major corporation. You make a mental note to ask Terezi if she knows anyone good, or at least, available immediately. You know that Roxy could hook you up with someone if you asked, but you’re already very self-conscious about how much Roxy has used their own connections to get you this far, so you’d much rather leave them out of it from this point on.

Actual contract details aside, you sit, close your eyes, and just try to process the whole situation. You weigh the pros and cons in your head:

_Pro- your idea for a video game will get made. Con- it won’t be exactly your idea. Pro- it will be better than the one you would have made. Con- you won’t get to make it. Pro- you will have a job. Con- you will have a job as a glorified mascot._

You go through all of that over and over to maintain the illusion of choice for as long as you can. The fact is that _GodQuest_ is getting made whether you like it or not, so your real choices are to get onboard, keep trying to make your own game and get absolutely crushed in the market, widely ridiculed, and possibly sued, or give up completely. And though the third option is honestly sounding very tempting at the moment, your thoughts return to Roxy. You think about how much they’ve pushed you to follow your dream, and believed in you, and supported you, how much their own career has meant to them, and to you, and how proud they’d be if you finally had something of your own, even if it’s not exactly what you wanted.

You pull out your phone and see that you have a notification from Pesterchum waiting for you. It’s Roxy, who, even though they are in the midst of their book tour, has been messaging you several times over the past hours, wishing you luck, sending love, telling you how proud they are, and most recently asking how it went. You are surprised to feel your throat tighten up, the exhaustion of a looming life-altering decision having taken more of an emotional toll than you realized, and the heartfelt words of the person you love more than anything in the world send you over the edge.

Your decision was very nearly made, but now there’s no doubt in your mind what you need to do.

EB: hey babe! thank you for checking in!  
EB: it was good! i’ll call you tonight with the details  
EB: i love you! <3 <3 <3

Without giving yourself time for second thoughts, you take out the card and dial the number for Mr. White Man.

“Hi, Mr., uh…”  
_Shit_. You quickly glance back at the card.  
“Mr. _Miller_ , it’s John Egbert. I’m in.”


	11. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I think you’ll be fine_   
>  _Just hang on and you’ll see_   
>  _But don’t make me wait till you do_   
>  _To be happy with you_

“Juney, you almost ready?” you call out from the bottom of the stairs. “June?”

You don’t hear anything, so you curse under your breath and head up. You open the bedroom door and see your wife laying in bed, face in her phone, in her pajamas. You are gripped by sheer panic at the sight. You’ve seen this before. You know what this means.

_We do not have time for this._

“June, _are you kidding me?_ We need to leave in like,” you look at your phone, “ _now_ , actually! You haven’t even showered yet?! What, have you just been sitting here on your phone this whole time?! I thought you were up here getting ready!”

She tells you she’s not going.

“No, no no no, come on, don’t do this now, June, _please_ don’t do this now, you _have_ to go. The limo is here, the guy's waiting, you gotta get up and we gotta go!”

She tells you she can’t.

“Juney, honey, I know you’re going through a rough patch right now, and I sympathize, I really, _truly_ do. After tonight I promise I will take some time off and we can talk about it. We can...talk to someone, if you still want to. Or just do something fun, maybe take a trip! Anywhere you want! I know it’s been a while since we’ve gone anywhere together, and that’s my fault, I’ve just been so busy, and I’m so sorry, baby, I really am. After everything with the first book I thought I’d have more time to spend together, and I wanted to! But then everyone kept asking about a second book, and I just...I got caught up, and it got out of hand, and I’m _sorry_.”

You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed by June.

“And you’ve been so good, baby, you’ve been so patient and so supportive, and I know I have asked way too much of you and I know it’s not fair. I know, I know! But, Juney, sweetie, this isn’t just some party. This is the _book release party. My_ book release party. I know I should’ve let you skip a few more of the other ones, but Juney, this is the _big_ one. You _have_ to come tonight. If there was any way around it I would let it go, but… you just _have_ to…”

She tells you she can’t. The light from her phone illuminates the tears starting to form in her eyes.

“ _Oh for fuck’s sake,_ June, _YES YOU CAN!_ You _literally_ can! All you have to do is stand up, put your dress on, and run a goddamn comb through your hair, and then walk to the fucking car! You’ve done it a million times, you _literally can!_ ”

She has now dropped her phone and buried her face in her hands. She tells you through her hands and her tears that she would just ruin it anyway, that she’d just kill the mood, that she’d embarrass you, that she’s nothing but a useless, miserable fuck-up, and that you deserve better than her…

Part of you really does just want to leave this poor woman alone. Hell, part of you wants to crawl right into bed with her and hold her until she falls asleep, party be damned. _You’re not a complete monster._ But a bigger part of you means what you said. June’s problems are not new and they are not going anywhere, that’s just a fact, and this is the _biggest night of your entire career_. God knows you’ve gone to parties, and book signings, and speaking engagements when you’ve felt like shit, because sometimes that is what a person _just needs to do_.

You look at your phone again and figure that you have about 15 more minutes of wiggle room before fashionably late becomes disrespectfully late, so you make a decision. Anger and guilt will not work. You have to make her feel better, _just enough_ for her to decide to go, and you can deal with the fallout tomorrow. You have to sit here, remain calm, and comfort your wife, and if you want her to brush her teeth, you have about 8 minutes in which to do it…

“Juney, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I snapped at you. I know you’re in pain and the last thing I want to do is make it worse. You are the most important thing in the world to me, baby, and seeing you hurt like this, it _kills_ me.”

She lets out a sob, and you put your hand on her knee.

“And I know why you’re feeling this way, Juney, I know that you’re still disappointed about how everything turned out with the new game, and believe me, I am too. I really, _really_ thought it was so great, Juney, and honestly, I’m stunned that it didn’t get picked up. But baby, you’re still moving forward, I promise! You’ve been doing these cons, and I know they seem silly, and I know that’s not necessarily what you want to be doing, but I promise you, it’s all connected. You’re building up your base, honey, you’re getting your name and your image out there, and people love you! They want to hear what you have to say! It’s only a matter of time before they see how brilliant and talented you are, and when they do, Juney, I promise you, all the right doors are gonna fly open for you! You’re gonna be making games the way you want to make them, and you’re gonna have the time and the resources, and you’re gonna have people answering to you, and you’re gonna be so happy! And I’m gonna be so proud of you- I mean, I’m already so proud of you, Juney. No matter what happens, I will _always_ be proud of you.”

The more you say, the more genuine and less manipulative you find your words to be. You remember why you fell in love with her, why you married her, and why, no matter how hard things get, you have always stayed.

“I know why you don’t want to go Juney, why you never want to go to these things. I know we don’t talk about it, but… I know that it’s hard on you that I’ve been so successful and you...aren’t there yet. And it’s my fault- I’ve been avoiding the subject because, well, I just don’t know how to bring it up without sounding like I’m rubbing it in your face or something, because I would _never_ do that, Juney! But, yeah, it’s... awkward and it’s uncomfortable, and it’s not fair, but it is what it is. But June, I know it’s easy for me to say this, since I’m the one with the awards and the parties and the offers, but I _promise you_ that no matter what the _world_ thinks, between you and me, _none of it matters._ You and me are not competing, we are a _team_ , no matter whose name is on the book, or the game, or the marquee, a win is a win, because we will _always_ come home to each other, and we will always be _June and Roxy_. And if we lose, we will pick ourselves up and we will move forward, together. For better or for worse, right? Even if, just for now, it’s...better for me, and worse for you...right?”

She lays her own hand on top of yours, and you notice that she’s not actively crying anymore. You so badly want to just lay down and put your arms around her and kiss her until she smiles that big, beautiful, goofy smile that knocked you off your feet all those years ago. You want to go back to when you were both just young and equally full of dreams, and potential, and love for each other, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was _watching_.

_But you can’t._

So you look at your wife, and you analyze, and you calculate, and you make your move.

“Now why don’t you put your dress on and we’ll go. OK? Juney? Can you just...do that please? _Please?_ ”

As if in slow motion, like the fall of a priceless vase knocked off its pedestal, you watch her face twist and her tears build up once again. She jerks her hand off of yours and puts it right back over her face and she cries. And she says she’s so sorry, over and over again.

You miscalculated. You blew it. And you’re out of time. So you just stand up.

“ _Fine_.”

Without looking back, you walk out of the room and close the door.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering uranianUmbra [UU]

TG: calllllllliiiiiiieeeeee!  
TG: im so sorrry but i neeeeeeeeed you  
TG: like...now  
TG: can u get some fancy clotes on in like...6 mins?  
TG: june ditched me again i need u to b my date  
UU: Oh, dear, I’m so sorry to hear that, Roxy.  
UU: BUt yes, of coUrse! I’ve jUst got a few sUits back from the drycleaners, I can be dressed and oUtside in two shakes, UwU!  
TG: thanks callie ur the bessssstttt! ill b rite there  
TG: oh and also  
TG: i mihgt need 2 crash at ur place after  
TG: it was...a bad one  
UU: Of coUrse, Roxy, yoU know yoU’re always welcome here!  
TG: <3<3<4  
TG: ok get dressed were almost ther!  
UU: Going now!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering uranianUmbra [UU]


	12. XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Think of what's great about me and you_   
>  _Think of the bullshit we've both been through_   
>  _Think of what's past because we can do better!_

“God, I can’t believe Rose and Kanaya are _actually_ getting married! I mean, OK, yeah, I definitely can, they’ve basically been married since they were like, 14. But the fact that it’s actually _official_ , and like, _legal_...I guess this must mean that we’re really not kids anymore! Haha!”

“Did I ever tell you how I used to think I was gonna marry Rose? OK, sorry, I know that’s like, a really weird thing to say, for _so many reasons_ , especially now, haha! But it wasn’t like that, it’s not like I _wanted_ to marry Rose, I mean, I didn’t _not_ want to marry Rose… Well, whatever, it was when we first entered the game and it was all Karkat’s idea anyway- he was trying to learn about human romance and reproduction, and we all still thought we’d have to repopulate the new universe, you know, the old-fashioned way, and that there’d be just the four of us, so we kinda didn’t have a choice...well, you get it, sorry. I guess it’s just crazy to think about how everything turned out, and how long ago that all was. In a lot of ways it all feels like it was just yesterday, to me at least. Like we’re all still just stupid kids set loose in a new world who have no idea what the fuck we’re doing, and most definitely aren’t ready to be doing adult things like fucking _get married_ , right?”

“...I think, maybe, that’s actually a big part of the reason it took me so long to finally ask you out. I know that’s stupid, cause going on dates and having boyfriends and girlfriends is definitely a totally normal teen thing to do. But I guess I didn’t want it to just be a _teen_ thing. I was scared that if we started dating when we were just 16, people might think that it couldn’t be that serious, or just assume that we wouldn’t know who we are or what we really wanted yet, and it wouldn’t last. I mean, I guess I was worried that _I_ might start thinking that- I was definitely worried that you would! So I just sorta decided not to risk it, and to just wait until it felt like we were ready for something...real. And I kept waiting and waiting, but I never felt any different. I turned 18, and then 19, then 20, 21, and 22, but I never just suddenly felt like ‘ _OK, I’m a grown-up now, time to do grown-up things._ ’ Year after year, I was still just the same old stupid kid who didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, so I still must not be ready for you.”

“And, yeah, OK, that and I was also just a fucking coward! Haha!”

“But then Rose and Kanaya got _engaged_ , and it just hit me that neither of them had some sudden major life event that made it OK to _just do that_ now! They didn’t magically become grown-ups one day, they just...grew up. We all did. But the difference is that they got to do it together, and they got to be happy and in love and together for all those years. And I realized that I'd just wasted _six years_ waiting for something to happen that wasn't going to happen! Six years waiting for you, when you were just _right there_ the whole time!”

“And I know I can’t change it now, and, yes, I think part of me will always regret it, but more than that, I’m just so, so, unbelievably happy that I finally got my shit together and stopped waiting and just went for it. And that you said yes! After all that time! And, idk, maybe it was for the best in the end, I don’t know how long you would’ve even been able to put up with 16 year old Egbert, haha! But, my point is, I guess, that for me at least, even though we’ve only technically been together four months, it feels like so much longer, because, well… I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Roxy.”

“You don't have to say anything, it's ok if it wasn't the same for you. I mean, it's not like I gave you any reason to think I was even remotely interested after the first few months. But aside from all that, like, I know this is the biggest fucking cliché, but I am literally one hundred percent serious when I say that the past four months with you have been, by far, the best of my entire life. Every minute I spend with you just makes me feel like...I don't know, _alive_ in a way I've never felt before. Like, literally anything is possible, like, maybe I _deserve_ to actually be happy? And like, maybe, someday, I can actually...be the person I want to be…”

“Yeah, I guess that's another reason it took me so long. Part of me really wanted to be able to never lie to you about who I am. And it wasn't until not that long ago that I even knew exactly what that was, to be honest. I just always knew there was something, uh, _different_ , I guess, about me, and I felt like I'd better figure it out and tell you so that you could decide if dating me was even still an option for you, you know? And then I started to be pretty sure what it was, but then I just got even more scared, cause I didn't know if you even _liked_ girls! And you know, that’s not just something you straight up ask someone, especially someone you've basically ghosted for the past five years, haha!”

“But yeah, I guess I do still feel a little bad for not being upfront about it before our first date, I know you understand, but I do. But I guess when Rose and Kanaya got engaged, and I realized that we're all adults now, and everybody is living their lives and making choices and pairing up and everything, I just sorta... _snapped_. I felt like if I don't do this now, I may just miss my chance forever, and that scared me more than the possibility of you rejecting me, or me not being ready, or of, um, having to pretend I'm someone I'm not for the rest of my life. I think, Roxy... I think maybe I would have done that, for you…”

“And I know, I know, that sucks! It's not good or healthy _at all_ and yeah, it probably would have blown up in both our faces eventually, but the point is that it doesn't even matter because not only do you like girls, _you_ are the one who even gave me the courage to finally try to be a girl at all! And I'm sorry that I'm not as brave as you and I'm still not ready to tell anyone else, and I'm sorry I've asked you to keep this huge secret from all of our friends. I swear I will tell them eventually, I will, I have to, obviously. But mostly I'm just so, _so_ grateful, Roxy, that you've been so supportive, and kind, and loving, and so patient and just, _so much more_ than I could have ever even imagined. And all I want is to be as good as you think I am, and be the person, the _woman_ , that you deserve. And I know I’m not, not yet, but I’m trying, and that alone is so unbelievably far ahead of where I was four months ago, and it’s all because of you! But I guess...I guess I just need a little more time....”

“Ugh, OK, sorry, I didn't mean to just talk at you literally the whole way over! Thanks again for driving by the way, I probably wouldn't have been able to pay much attention to what I was doing while going on about all this stuff, haha! But, OK, we're almost there so I'm gonna get to my point. I'm still scared, but I'm gonna do it anyway because you are worth it, Roxy. Because you taught me that I can be scared of something and do it anyway…”

“So, OK… I don't really know about like, what makes a timeline good, or real, or not _doomed_ , or whatever. And I definitely don’t know what the fuck Rose is talking about with all that shit about _canon_. I just know that you and me together feels more right, more _real_ than anything I've ever felt in my entire life. And God knows that not a lot in either of our lives has really been all that good or right at all! But isn't all that just even more reason to just say fuck it and go all in on us? To just sort of, grab hold of this thing with both hands and just run with it? Don't we both just really, _really_ , deserve this?”

“Look Roxy, my point is, whatever this timeline is, I would spend every second of every minute of every day of it with you if I could, and it still wouldn't be enough, but it's a start, so…”

“I... want you to move in with me. For real. I don’t want you to just spend most of your time at _my_ house, I want it to be _our_ house. I don’t want you to have to go home every few days to get more clothes, or write, or whatever. I want you to _come_ home, _every_ day, to _me_. I want your face to be the first and last thing I see every single day from now on. So, yeah, I'm making my first real adult decision, and it's you. Move in with me. Please.”


	13. XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I grip, and she grips_   
>  _And faster we're sliding_   
>  _Sliding and spilling, and what can I do?_   
> 

You are exactly where you have been more and more frequently over the past few months- in your former home, laying on your former couch, with your head in your best friend’s lap. You used to come here every so often for lunch, or tea, or a movie, or just to catch up, but now when you’re here it only means one thing- that you just can’t be at your own house, you can’t be with _her_.

This time, June isn’t at your house, but you are about to get on a plane to the middle of nowhere to finally go to one of her stupid conventions, something you’ve dreaded yet managed to avoid your whole marriage thanks to your own busy work schedule, and maybe a few little white lies here and there. But this time you are finally going, because she finally managed to wear you down with her guilt trips and self-pity during one of your recent fights, and the only way you could think of to make it stop was to promise you’d go to see her ‘ _work_.’ And now, minutes ticking down until your flight, you are here with Callie because you are terrified and you can’t stand to be at home alone. You know that in a few hours you will have to face your wife and pretend that everything is OK knowing what you now know- what you should have known months ago.

_It’s over._

Callie is gently stroking your hair with one hand and holding your hand with the other. They are silent. Ever patient, supportive, non-judgemental, they have spent more and more of your time together lately exactly like this, listening to all the details of your marriage problems, and have given no indication at all of being bothered by it. But even though you just haven’t had the strength to stop yourself, you can tell that your visits are starting to wear on them. You can see in their eyes just how much your own pain hurts them. Beneath the pain, you can see the deep love that Callie has for you. You know it has always been there, but you’ve never allowed yourself to truly understand it or accept it for what it is. Now, it’s the one thing that’s keeping you going. It’s your only escape from a life of constant turmoil. It’s warm, and safe, and easy. It’s exactly what you need, and you are starting to think that you’re finally ready.

You know what needs to be done now. You know that June won’t do it. You know that Callie won’t do it. It’s all up to you, all you need is to be brave.

_Be brave._

“What if this whole thing was a mistake, Callie? What if I never should have left?”

Callie doesn’t say anything. They’re grip tightens on your shoulder just ever so slightly, but they don’t speak.

“Maybe...I was wrong from the very beginning. Maybe I was never supposed to be with June at all. I mean, I was 16, and I was lonely, and I had had my heart broken by every other person I had ever loved, and then suddenly, there she was. She was cute, and sweet, and she seemed to like me, and she was a ‘boy’ and I was a ‘girl,’ and she was the fourth human being I had ever met in my entire life, so I just thought, ‘ _Yeah, yeah, this could be it! It has to be! Why not?_ ’ And even though when we got here and we mostly went our separate ways for a bunch of years, I had already so convinced myself that June was it that I just couldn’t quite let it go.”

You sit up as your energy builds.

“And then, finally, out of nowhere, she actually wants me too, for real this time! And it just felt so...exhilarating! So... _validating_. And then from that point on, with June it was all just...fireworks. The first time we kissed, _boom_! Fireworks! When she told me she loved me, _boom_! Fireworks! When I moved in, when we proposed, when we got married, every single time she touched me or even just _looked_ at me and _smiled, boom boom boom!_ Amazing! Beautiful! Breathtaking! But the thing about fireworks is that if you’re lucky, they burn out, and if you’re not, they blow up in your fucking face! And if you’re stubborn- if you’re _stupid_ , they keep blowing up in your face, and you keep going out to buy more, and try again, and just tell yourself that you are strong enough to keep that up forever. But you’re _not_! No one is!”

You stand, flailing your arms emphatically as you continue.

“And after a while you’ve bought up all the good ones anyway, and all that’s left is the cheap crap that’s _even more likely_ to blow up in your face, and aren’t even that impressive to look at when they don’t! And it’s only at that point you finally start to realize that maybe you don’t want your whole life to be the fourth of fucking July! Maybe you realize you’ve actually got shit to do! _Maybe you never even liked fireworks all that much at all!_ ”

You can’t think of anything else to add to your extensive metaphor, so it’s time to get to your point. You pace for just a few more seconds, then look back at Callie’s painfully stoic face. You sit back down and take their hand before the adrenaline wears off and makes you lose your nerve.

“But Callie, with _you_ , it was never fireworks, it was always just...easy. And safe. And quiet. And for years I just took it for granted! And yes, I thought about it, about you and me being...more, of course I did! A few times I even came pretty close to getting over my bullshit and _doing_ something about it! But...after everything I’d been through, after everything I went through for years with Dirk and Jake and Jane, and then June, I just couldn’t let go of the thought that _that_ must not be what love is. If it’s not hard, and terrifying, and big and bright and loud, it’s not love, right? If you don’t have to fight for it, and sacrifice for it, and _suffer_ for it, it must not be real love! But that’s all bullshit, isn’t it? That’s just what sells movies and books and pop songs because with those you can just watch the fireworks for a little while and you ‘ _ooooh_ ’ and ‘ _aaaaah_ ’ and clap and then you’re done before there’s time to even see if anything bad ever happens. You enjoy the show and then you go home and go to bed. You _rest_.”

Finally, you feel your energy suddenly drained, and you sigh deeply.

“I don’t feel like I’ve gotten any rest in five years.”

“Roxy…”

“And, I don’t know, maybe I needed to be with June so I could finally figure that out. If someone had just told me back then that I should just ignore all of the big feelings, all that color and light, that they’d only lead to pain, I don’t think I would’ve believed them. Or maybe I just wouldn’t have listened, or wouldn’t have cared. Maybe that spark I carried for June would’ve never gone out until I let the whole thing just explode. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that no matter how much I try now, it’s gone. I can’t bring it back, and even if I could, I...I don’t think I could survive it again. Not this time. Not when I know there’s something better for me that’s been right here all along...”

You look up again at Callie’s face. Their expression has turned to one of pure panic with just the slightest spark of hope in their eyes.

“I’m so tired, Callie. I just want to come home.”

“Roxy, you’re upset, please think very carefully about what you’re saying. Please don’t...make me think...please, don’t say anything you don’t mean...”

Their voice is frantic, something you’ve never heard from them before, and you don’t like it. You know what they want, what they’ve always wanted, and you’re finally ready to give it to them. You put your hand gently on their cheek.

“But what if I do?”

Your eyes are completely locked on each other, and before you even realize, you are leaning forward, and they are leaning forward and…

_You kiss._

It’s so different than kissing June. Callie’s lips are thin, hard, and cold. There’s no give to them, no space to play with between the outside and the inside of their mouth. Your lower lip slips between theirs and you can feel the slight pressure of a sharp, dangerous tooth. But despite these should-be unpleasant elements, because of them, probably, there is such softness, gentleness- _care_ in Callie’s kiss. June always kissed you like she had something to prove. But Callie doesn’t need to prove anything at all. They know exactly who they are and exactly how to be just exactly that, and that’s all you need to be, too. There are no fireworks. It’s easy. It’s quiet. _It’s safe._

_It feels like home._

“It’s over, Callie. I want you. I want to come home. Please, can I just come home?”

They look away, silent, for another moment, as if in their head they’re going through all the old familiar reasons to say no, to push you away, to let you go. And then they look back into your eyes and give their answer.

“Yes. Yes, Roxy, please come home.”

You kiss them again. This time you put your arms around each other. You press your luck a bit more this time to explore, nearly drawing blood from your lip on their teeth, but Callie is as careful and gentle and safe as ever. You know that no matter what you do, they will never hurt you.

You wish you could just stay like this forever, but then you suddenly remember that you can’t...not yet.

“Callie, I have to go. I have to catch my flight. I...have to go see her- I promised I would. But I’ll be back! Tonight! I’ll make up some excuse and I’ll come back tonight. I just need to go first, and...I’ll tell her. I promise. I’ll finally tell her, and then I’ll be free, and then I’ll come home... to you.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Do what you need to do, Roxy. I’ll be right here.”

“I love you.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did mean it. You bravely look back at their face to see their reaction. They just smile.

“I love you, Roxy. I’ll be right here.”

So you leave, drive to the airport, and get on a plane to go see your wife.


	14. XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _All you can say, all you can feel_  
>  _Was wrapped up inside that one perfect kiss_
> 
> _**********_
> 
> _You never saw how far the crack had opened_  
>  _You never knew I had run out of rope, and_  
>  _I could never rescue you_

You close the door behind you and try to even believe the night you just had was real. Your whole body is tingling, though from the knees down it’s probably from the fact that you just spent the last seven hours walking in a pair of your dad’s old dress shoes that don’t quite fit. But everywhere else, it’s, God, what is this even called... Bliss? Euphoria? _Love?_ Whatever it’s called, it is so unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before in your life. This... _doesn’t happen to you._

_But it happened, right? It wasn’t a dream?_

You instinctively lick your lips and you can still just make out the faint taste of tiramisu. Your mind flashes back to the way her eyes lit up when she saw it on the menu, the way her face beamed as she explained how she’d never had tiramisu before, but saw a very glamorous person in a movie eat it once and always thought how fancy she’d feel if she ever got to try it herself, the way she blushed and giggled when you ordered it for her, the way her lips tasted like tiramisu…

You never really cared for sweet things, but as of about four minutes ago, you think tiramisu might just be your new favorite food.

The memories bring on a headrush that blurs the edges of your vision and knocks you off your balance before you catch yourself on the door behind you. You were too distracted being giddy to notice how fucking exhausted you were. You decide that out of concern for your health, you should try not to think too much about how utterly blissed out you feel until you’re safely in bed. So you kick off your shoes, float up the stairs, and collapse on top of the covers, still in your suit. You fall asleep to the taste of tiramisu...

You’re jolted awake by the repeated buzzing of your phone in your jacket pocket. You roll over to pull it out and see that it’s 2:37pm, and that Dave has been pestering you.

turntechGodhead  [TG]  began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

TG: ok first of all john i just want to take a moment to make sure you are properly appreciating the extreme level of true bromanship i feel for you to even be initiating this conversation  
TG: to overcome layer upon layer of severe psychological damage of the most freudian variety  
TG: like, off the charts levels of love and kinship between two righteous dudes  
TG: mutual respect and affection for my fellow man out the fucking ass  
TG: no homo  
TG: ok maybe just a little homo  
TG: alright thats enough ironic toxic masculinity bullshit  
TG: how was your date with my mom?

You kinda wish Dave would cool it with the bro stuff, but the mention of the date pushes all that aside and puts a big, goofy smile on your face. You’re glad that Dave isn’t here in person to see how seriously uncool you must look right now. Also, you really wish he would stop referring to Roxy as his mom…

EB: dave, i really wish you would stop referring to roxy as your mom...  
EB: but, to answer your question…  
EB: (ok do you promise you're done with the ironic toxic masculinity bullshit?)  
TG: nah dude i cant really promise that sorry  
EB: UGH… ok whatever, i don't even care!  
EB: it was fucking _incredible_  
TG: sounds gay  
EB: dave! DX  
TG: what i have a boyfriend now im officially qualified to call out gay shit when i see it  
EB: yeah i know and i’m very happy for you and karkat but i thought we were talking about me and my date with roxy  
TG: ok fine  
TG: please elaborate on your totally heterosexual incredible date with my mom  
EB: thanks  
EB: i mean, i guess the date itself was pretty typical, i think?  
EB: we went to a fancy restaurant and ate some really small portions of really good food, and then we went for a walk in the park  
EB: but the whole time we were just talking, and like, i didn't even know i had all that much to say to anyone anymore, but it just felt so effortless that i kept saying all this stuff about my childhood, and my dad, and the game before we all met up, and all the stuff that happened after the game, and stuff i haven't even done yet but was just sort of thinking about, like that stupid game idea i had  
EB: and i didnt even realize how much time had gone by because i just kept wanting to tell her everything, and i could tell that for some reason she was actually super interested! in _me!_  
EB: ok, that makes me sound like an asshole, obviously she talked too, as much as i did at least  
EB: did you know she was thinking about writing an autobiography? and that she also loves video games and computers, and knows how to code?  
EB: god, she's like, the coolest person i've ever met in my life!  
EB: no offense  
TG: i am deeply offended actually but we can put a pin in that  
EB: and she's so smart, like, probably a million times smarter than me, but she doesn't act like it  
EB: i mean, she doesn't act _not_ smart, but she's not like rose or dirk where they kinda like to shove it in your face how smart they are, you know?  
EB: even when she said something super smart, she didn’t say it in a way that made me feel stupid at all, like, it actually made me feel kinda smart too  
EB: and she's so funny! like, without even trying at all! like, everything she said or did was just, like, endearing! and so fucking _adorable!_

You can feel your face grow goofier still, and you freely let it. It feels nice.

EB: and even though we hung out for hours and she seemed like she was having fun the whole time, i probably still would not have believed that she actually liked me, cause like, she’s so obviously out of my league  
EB: but then...  
EB: she kissed me!  
TG: oh shit moms got game  
TG: go mom get you some of that sweet egbert tongue action thats whats up  
EB: _jesus, dave!_ i knew you were gonna make it weird!  
TG: a mans gotta have his coping mechanisms john  
TG: believe me im definitely gonna have an existential meltdown about this later dont worry  
TG: full-on bathroom floor, fetal position, the works  
EB: ok whatever, weirdo…  
EB: but, yeah  
EB: i mean, i was thinking about kissing her all night but i kept chickening out  
EB: but then we were just standing out in my driveway and i kept stalling trying to work up the courage  
EB: and i don't even remember what i was talking about at that point but she just looked right at me and just grabbed my face and kissed me!  
EB: ok and i am fully aware that you are never going to let me live this down but i don't even care-  
EB: it was, like  
EB: _magical_  
TG: dude you are so fucking gay  
EB: you're so fucking gay!  
TG: wtf john you cant just say that to me  
EB: oh, shit, i’m sorry dave i didn't mean it...  
TG: haha psyche  
TG: youre right im totally gay its just too easy to fuck with you now  
EB: haha, yeah good one :/

Your phone buzzes again, alerting you to the blinking tab in your pesterchum app- _tipsyGnostalgic_.

*************

“Juney?”

You knock on the door to the bedroom that once was yours. You know she’s in there, but she doesn’t make a sound. You see there’s no light coming from under the door, but you know she’s awake.

“June, I, um...Callie’s here. I just wanted to let you know that I’m...going now. And I wanted to say goodbye. I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, but...well, I guess I thought I should try at least…”

You hold for a hopeful moment, but there’s just silence.

“June, I’m sorry. I know you blame me, and, yeah, I guess you should, and that’s fine, I’m fine with that, but I hope that someday you believe that I _am_ sorry. This isn’t what I wanted, Juney. This isn’t what I planned, I promise. I never wanted to hurt you...”

You think you might have heard the mattress squeak, but that’s all. You catch your breath.

“You told me once that there was a hole inside you, and that I was the only thing that filled it. And Juney, that was my first mistake, cause when I heard you say that, you know what I thought? I thought “Wow! I must be pretty darn great for someone to think that about me! That sounds like a pretty impressive and noble thing to be! I sure do like the way that makes me feel…”

You let out a sigh.

“But Juney, I don’t think there was ever a hole inside you. I don’t think you’re incomplete at all. I think you’re just depressed. You’re depressed, and you’re traumatised, and you’re lost. Or, idk, maybe it is true, maybe you do have a _hole_ inside you, whatever that means. But if you do, well, I’m sorry, June, but it’s nobody’s job to fill that hole but yours. Believe me, because I have _tried_. I have bent and twisted and turned myself over and over and over again to try to fit whatever shape your _hole_ decided to take each day, and if I ever guessed wrong, or just didn’t have the energy, believe me, I have _suffered_ for it. And I just can’t anymore, OK? I can’t be a piece of you and be all of me at the same time…”

_Don’t, Roxy..._

“I mean, God, June, if anyone knows what it’s like to not be a complete person, it’s Callie, but they don’t _put that on me!_ They don’t expect me to be more than I am. They want me but they don’t... _need_ me, and, June, there’s only so much being _needed_ a person can take before they just... fucking snap under the pressure!”

You regretted it the second their name came out of your mouth- it felt like twisting the knife you’ve already lodged into your poor soon-to-be-ex wife’s heart. You think you hear the sound of stifled cries for just a few seconds, and then silence again.

_God, Lalonde, why are you such an asshole?_

“I’m sorry, Juney. I’m just...tired. I’m too tired. I’ve failed you, and a part of me will always hate myself for that, but...it is what it is, I guess. It’s just time for me to go...”

The finality in the word ‘ _go_ ’ is what finally shakes you, and you start to cry yourself. But you’re careful not to make a sound, and after allowing yourself a few seconds, you compose yourself again.

“I called Dave, he’s gonna come check on you in a couple hours. And, if you ever feel like you want to talk about it, or just yell at me, or whatever, just give me a call, Juney, _whenever you’re ready…_ ”

_OK._

“OK, goodbye…”

**********

EB: oh shit…  
TG: what  
EB: she’s messaging me right now!  
EB: oh god, what do i say?  
TG: idk john i hear hi is all the rage with the kids these days you could try that  
EB: why did i think you would be any help?  
TG: ok dude im gonna fucking level with you real quick  
TG: you like roxy  
EB: yeah…  
TG: roxy likes you  
EB: i think so  
EB: i mean, yes, she does  
TG: so just talk to her dude  
EB: yeah, you're right  
EB: ok, brb...  
TG: but just so you know im never gonna call you dad...

You watch the tab blink for a few more seconds before clicking it. Roxy wants you to come over later to talk.

EB: hi roxy! it's so great to hear from you!  
EB: and yeah, i'd love that!  
EB: give me like 20 minutes to get ready and i'll head right over  
EB: ok, goodbye :)


End file.
